


lose these chains, my friend

by tryingtofeelinvincible



Category: EXID (Band), EXO (Band), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: COMC Professor Chanyeol, DADA Professor Lu Han, F/M, Herbology Professor Jongdae, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Magical Creatures, Platonic Soulmates, Transfiguration Professor Heeyeon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryingtofeelinvincible/pseuds/tryingtofeelinvincible
Summary: all it takes is one magical creatureactivistprofessor to uproot kim jongdae’s worldhogwarts au
Relationships: Ahn Heeyeon | Hani/Lu Han, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 45
Kudos: 63





	1. tell mephistopheles to bugger off and take this hellish week with him

**Author's Note:**

> so... this has been gathering dust in my folders for a while know and i finally dug it up and decided to post it. i've been an exo-l for an incredibly long time now (and a potterhead for even longer) and wanted nothing more than a decent hogwarts/exo au... i didn't get one, so i decided to write one. i can't say that it's going to be a great endeavour on my part (i'm not all that talented as a writer) but i sure as hell hope it'll be an entertaining one. 
> 
> as is probably always the case with writers of any kind, reviews are appreciated. please let me know you enjoy this brat of a fic (i might just give up otherwise--i'm far too susceptible to self-doubt lol)
> 
> also!! quick shoutout to my beta Su (who's probably forgotten she even edited this bad boy--i literally stopped writing this in 2016 dudes--but still). she did a great job on the first 12 chapters and i love her and appreciate her advice so so much. the remaining couple are probs going to be unbeta-ed (pls dont't h8 me) (if there are any betas who wanna give my newer chapters a read hmu!)
> 
> ash
> 
> p.s. ratings may be subject to change, just a heads up

Jongdae opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the dungeon windows. He winced at the glare, rolling over and burrowing further into the blankets. His alarm hadn’t gone off yet and he absolutely refused to move until he had no other option. He knew he _should_ get up—it was the first official day of term tomorrow and it would do him well to get his routine together beforehand… but acknowledging the path he should take and following it were two different things, and he sure as hell did _not_ want to move. He could have one more day to himself.

Jongdae closed his eyes and tried to ignore the bright sunlight, reaching for the remnants of Morpheus’ influence. But no matter how hard he tried, sleep eluded his grasp—it was the sunshine, something about it was wrong. _But what?_ he wondered, _What could it be?_ Sunlight in winter was a thing to be celebrated, especially in this dreary ass climate. He turned over and sighed, staring at the arched ceilings.

 _What could it… oh shit. Shit, shit, shit._ Jongdae jerked upright, his heart pounding. _Merlin—the delivery—it was today. Fuck._ He glared at the sunshine seeping through the castle windows, casting a warm glow over the contents of his room; an unruly desk, uncapped ink bottles, crumpled robes and scattered hair products were all practically glowing as a result of the unexpected spell of sunshine.

On a normal day, he would have been uplifted by the sight, but today was not normal… He’d ordered a shipment of sensitive goods and they were not going to fare well with all this sunshine. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming. The weather had been forecasted to be gloomy, rainy and damp. The plant he’d ordered was incredibly expensive. Jongdae began to panic: _What if it died? No, no—he was being dramatic. It wouldn’t die from such brief exposure, right? But what if it did? It was only a baby..._

Jongdae shook his head to clear his thoughts and muttered a quick mental "Scourgify" to ensure his room looked more presentable; the desk was now organised, the ink bottles capped, the clothes washed and hung in his wardrobe. The ordered room made him feel a little more in control. He could do this, he could handle a damaged plant. He was a Master, for heaven’s sake. He waved his hand in a wandless "Accio wand" before rushing out of his room, summoning his clothes as he did so. A shower and hair styling charm later, Jongdae felt slightly less anxious. _Slightly._

Jongdae continued to glare at the bright, pure sunshine filtering through the hallways as he made his way up from the lowest living quarters of the castle towards the Great Hall. He was positively shaking (from anger or anxiety, who bloody knew) by the time he flopped into his seat and began his breakfast.

His strange mood was palpable to all, but the other staff members wisely refrained from commenting as he hurriedly tore into his toast and chugged his mug of tea. They knew the Herbology Professor had received more than his fair share of bad news before term began. The owls came and Jongdae's mood worsened, if possible, and he glared up at the ceiling of the Great Hall intensely.

Jongdae felt his shrunken crystal ball vibrate and he sighed, knowing that the incoming message meant that his delivery had arrived. He got up, barely glancing at the staff table as he made his way to the grounds. He was so distracted with worry that he barely acknowledged his surroundings, failing even to react to the greetings the paintings called out. _That stupid weather forecast_ , he thought, _I checked on all the wizarding channels, I even checked the Muggle forecast, and all predicted a gloomy month. This stupid, bloody sunshine is going to rui_ —

CRASH!

Jongdae blinked up at the arches of the hallway, surveying them with a puzzled expression on his face, his worries momentarily forgotten as his head began to throb slightly. A big blob of something suddenly entered his field of vision and Jongdae focused on it, managing to discern a—a _head_? Jongdae shook his head, looking around in confusion. _Why on earth was he on the floor?_

"—so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wasn't looking where I was going..." a voice babbled. Arms suddenly clasped around his upper torso as the owner of the voice all but pulled him up from his position on the floor.

Jongdae shook his head again, clearing his mind as he tried to make sense of the situation. He looked up at the unknown man, who was mumbling incoherently, before looking down at the floor and— "Oh, for Merlin's sake, what?!" Jongdae burst out, the incessant chatter becoming too much for his aching head.

The stranger snapped his mouth shut with a snap, looking slightly hurt by the sharpness of Jongdae's tone. "I'm sorry, I just—"

Jongdae mentally slapped himself. _Way to go, Dae! Let’s just yell at innocent passers-by because we’re stressed._ He glanced at the guy again, “Look, I’m sorry for snapping. It was uncalled f—"

Jongdae's crystal ball vibrated again, more rapidly this time, and his face paled as he turned to look at the sunlight streaming through the windows. He turned away from the clumsy stranger, forgetting the rest of his apology as he ran full pelt, racing through the last hallway and down the stone steps of the castle until he reached the carriage marked _Greenie's Deliveries_.

The driver opened the door and unloaded Jongdae's parcel with a flick of his wand. "Kim Jongdae?" he asked, and when Jongdae nodded in the affirmative the driver held out a piece of parchment. Jongdae hurriedly signed his name, eyeing the parcel warily as the driver lowered it to the ground and nodded farewell to Jongdae before entering his carriage and flying away. Jongdae surveyed the parcel warily, levitating it with a muttered "Wingardium leviosa _"_ before making his way back into the castle.

**~ ... ~**

Jongdae was exhausted. The day had flown by with last minute lesson alterations and a whole load of plant maintenance. The gardeners Dumbledore had hired were completely useless and Jongdae was seriously considering living at the castle all year round. At least that way he could ensure that his plants were in good condition when he returned to Hogwarts from his family estate. He closed his eyes, wincing as he recalled the sight of the yellow, mottled colour of his neglected Venomous Tentacula.

He had made arrangements for the more high-maintenance plants in Greenhouse 3 to be transported to his own greenhouse, so those were in perfect shape (thank heavens, as those were _expensive_ ). Greenhouse 1 fared fairly well, the low maintenance plants only slightly worse for the wear. Greenhouse 2, however, was a complete wreck _._ At least a third of his precious babies were at death's door, another third were halfway there, and the remaining third were suffering from various levels of neglect. It looked like they hadn't even been watered correctly, for Merlin's sake! The spells required for each plant had been attached to their pots with neon pink labels and the idiots still managed to botch up such a simple task.

Jongdae's day had naturally been spent secluded in Greenhouse 2 as he desperately tried to salvage some of his plants, his heart breaking each time he had to “Vanish” a plant that was beyond salvation. He had managed to retain most of his inventory, but at least two species had been completely wiped out and three were looking scarily sparse.

Jongdae worried his lip; Poppy and Severus depended on his plants for a fair amount of their potions and antidotes and many other teachers had uses for them too; this was a disaster. Jongdae sighed. The remaining plants were going to need extreme intensive care and he was the only one qualified to deliver it; no one but him was going to be allowed in Greenhouse 2 for a while.

He’d only just found about the fiasco before him three days ago when he’d arrived with the rest of the staff body for the start of term. He’d absolutely lost his temper with the headmaster when he’d realised the extent of the damage. How on earth was he to deliver lessons? This had completely destroyed his lesson plans for fourth, fifth and sixth years, all of which required plants from Greenhouse 2 as part of their syllabus. He usually began with Greenhouse 2 before letting them anywhere near even the least delicate of plants in Greenhouse 3, but this incident completely ruined his plans.

This change of plans had led to his needing to shift and adjust his lesson plans for the year, with the lessons in Greenhouse 3 being the first he taught as opposed to the last. Jongdae winced internally at the amount of theory he was going to have to teach before allowing his students to touch his plants in Greenhouse 3. He was going to have to bore their socks off and they were all going to hate his guts. Either way, the final adjustments to his lesson plans combined with this salvaging mission had taken up his entire day and Jongdae was absolutely knackered. His jobs, however, were far from done. The most taxing task had yet to be completed, and it was waiting for him in his quarters.

Jongdae hurried back to the castle, stopping by the kitchens for some food (he'd skipped lunch and dinner in favour of his plants) before heading down to his rooms. He looked longingly at his bed before shaking his head and carefully opening the door to his destination ever so slightly. He squeezed through the gap, trying to stop even the smallest amount of light in as he did so, and slammed the door shut behind him.

He whispered a quick “videre per facultatem tenebris,” pointing his wand at his eyes and relaxing as the darkness in the room no longer hindered his sight. Jongdae made his way to the very end of the room and knelt before this morning's delivery worriedly. He knew the sun was going to ruin everything—his Devil's Snare was looking mottled and far too yellow for his liking. It was only a baby and being exposed to such bright sunlight, even if only temporarily, had really affected it.

Jongdae sighed. Devil's Snare was expensive and rare and he did not need this happening just before term began. He reached out a hand and cast a moisture spell on it to ensure that the Snare wouldn't attack him. As expected, the plant unfurled and leaned into Jongdae's touch; relieved, he continued stroking each root, ensuring that each responded properly.

 _Thank heavens,_ Jongdae thought. The sunlight hadn't damaged it as much as he'd feared; the damage seemed mainly external. The plant's reactions and movements seemed relatively healthy, if only slightly slower than normal. Jongdae smiled, knowing a little care would be enough to nurse this baby back to health. He cast a quick moisture spell on the area around the plant, watching with a relieved expression as the roots spread out into the damp areas, ready to soak up as much moisture as they could.

The plant’s reactions reassured him—he’d be able to provide Severus and Poppy with what they needed easily, and it would be simple enough to obtain snippets for his Seventh years. When it got a little larger, Jongdae would have to transfigure something to contain and transfer it in, but for now all was well. Jongdae mentally reminded himself to return every so often to recast the spell and headed out of the room, locking the door with a quick spell, and then crashed into his bed without a care for his dirty attire.


	2. a feast fit for camelot

Jongdae was up before dawn the next morning. He'd grabbed a light breakfast from the kitchens and requested all his meals to be delivered to him in the greenhouses (apart from the evening meal, which was the welcoming feast and required his presence as a teacher). He'd checked on his baby Snare which was, thankfully, recovering quite well from its unfortunate sunlight exposure, and moisturised it again before he returned to the meticulous task that awaited him in Greenhouse 2.

Before he knew it the sun was setting and Hagrid's shouting voice could be heard welcoming the first years. Jongdae's shoulders sagged when he noticed the time; he had so much left to do—he'd completed just over half of his tasks for the day. With a sigh, he dropped his tools onto the wooden table reserved for them.

He pulled off his dragon-hide gloves, barely registering the smell of mooncalf dung clinging to them. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he took in his dishevelled reflection in the greenhouse glass. He looked absolutely terrible; if anyone saw him they'd wonder who let the forest into the Great Hall. He looked back at the castle and noticed that the entryway was packed with students—he had to hurry up!

Jongdae muttered another “Scourgify,” frowning at how often he used it. He was disgusting, honestly; he needed to improve his hygiene. His hair was a hopeless case but Jongdae let it be, choosing instead to stuff his wand back down his robes and rush across the castle grounds in his completely improper state.

He all but collapsed into his seat at the staff table, pretending not to notice the amused looks of students and staff alike as he brushed his hands through his hair and looked stubbornly forward at the door to the hall, pretending he wasn't late. The Sorting ceremony soon began and Jongdae breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing into his chair as he watched the ceremony unfold. His head buzzed in an almost painful way and he frowned… he needed some rest tonight, or his lessons would be awful tomorrow.

The last name was called out and Jongdae straightened up obediently as the eyes of the student body shifted from the Sorting stool to the staff table, awaiting Dumbledore's annual announcements. He heard a snicker escape the person beside him and sneaked an elbow into their side in retaliation. "Shut it, Luhan," he muttered, stubbornly proceeding to ignore the bratty Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor ( _or_ his best friend, if you asked him when Han was behaving) in favour of listening to the Headmaster.

"…I expect you all to give a warm welcome to the new addition to our staff: Professor Park!" Dumbledore concluded, waiting for the applause to die down before looking pointedly over the top of his half-moon spectacles at the new recruit.

The new recruit, Professor Park, blushed and stood, smiling a wide, toothy and slightly awkward grin at the students before him. "Hello, everyone! I've been told that I need to make a speedy introduction and this is the best I could come up with, so I apologise for any deficiencies in it," he began with a nervous laugh. "I'm Professor Park, your new Care of Magical Creatures Professor. I hope I can do the role and my research justice," he continued hurriedly, and he broke out in an earnest smile as he sat down quickly, blushing as whispering broke out among his future students.

The blood drained from Jongdae's face when he recognised the voice and he mentally slapped himself; it was Clumsy Stranger Guy. Dumbledore called for silence, but the rest of his speech evaded Jongdae as his stomach lurched in anxiety. He'd completely mistreated the new Care of Magical Creatures Professor yesterday, who was probably the Professor he would work the most with, along with Severus.

Magical creatures needed magical plants for food and medicinal purposes, and magical plants needed magical fertiliser (dung, to put it simply and far too crudely for his tastes)—the arrangement was perfect… except the new guy probably thought Jongdae to be a right stuck-up prat. He'd accidentally ruined everything! He was such a bloody brainless git sometimes. It wasn't his fault. He was just worried about his baby Snare. If only he could somehow make—

His train of thought was disturbed by the sound of his name being called repeatedly. He snapped his head up, starting at the sight of Luhan's concerned face inches away from his own.

"Jongdae-ah, are you okay?" Luhan asked, slightly stilted Korean flowing off his tongue as he pressed a palm to Jongdae's forehead.

Jongdae raised his eyebrows at Luhan’s choice of language. Why was he talking to him in Korean? His eyes flicked past the familiar mop of hair, widening when he realised that the entire staff table was looking worriedly at him; he didn't dare turn to face the students. Ah, that was why. 

"I'm fine," Jongdae responded, his native accent bleeding into his words as he looked pointedly at Luhan and no one else.

Luhan shook his head exasperatedly. "Chen-Chen, you literally blanked out for a whole two minutes. Dumbledore wants you to make your announcement about Herbology lessons," he replied, still looking concerned.

Jongdae looked at Luhan in confusion, jumping as Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Professor Kim?"

Jongdae's face flushed in embarrassment and he stood hurriedly, automatically facing forwards. His head spun slightly, but he ignored it in favour of clearing his throat. He refused to make eye contact with his students, opting instead to stare pointedly at the wall due to his embarrassing predicament.

"Ah, I do apologise for being so absent-minded today. It’s been a long day, I’m afraid. Fourth, fifth and sixth years, my sincerest apologies are in order. Your course has been adjusted slightly this year due to unforeseen problems. The less complex aspects of your syllabus will have to be taught later in the year as, currently, the contents of Greenhouse 2 are out of bounds to anyone without herbological expertise. As a result, your first lessons will be incredibly complex and taxing so please, come prepared with a fresh mind. Fourth years, read pages 78-84 of your core textbooks; fifth years, please read pages 109-125; and sixth years, please read the entirety of the sixth chapter. I apologise for dumping you with such an intense workload so early on, but the theory covered in those pages is vital to understanding your first lessons. Thank you," Jongdae finished, nodding to Dumbledore before collapsing back into his chair.

Luhan's hand found its way to Jongdae's thigh and Jongdae relaxed at the calming spell Luhan cast wandlessly, his touch ensuring that it reached its intended target. "Yah, Jongdae-ah, hold out for a little longer," Luhan murmured, his lips brushing Jongdae’s ear as the headmaster continued addressing the students.

Jongdae nodded slightly, still feeling disoriented. He grasped Luhan's hand tightly as Dumbledore finally summoned the feast. The moment everyone was distracted, Luhan turned to Jongdae and cast a quick glamour spell and a “Muffliato”, making everyone see an illusion of them digging into their food.

Luhan pulled out his wand and cast a detection spell, eyebrows furrowed as he searched Jongdae's body. His wand paused over Jongdae's neck and he raised an eyebrow at him, silently ordering him to turn his head. "Yah! Kim Jongdae! What have you done?!" Luhan exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice.

Jongdae automatically lifted his hand to see what all the fuss was about, but Luhan slapped it away. "Don't touch it! This looks like the beginnings of an infection. How did you not feel this? You should have gone to Poppy!" Luhan whisper-yelled, his palms flitting across the back of Jongdae's robes in worry.

Jongdae looked at Luhan and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Luhan-ah, I'll go after the feast, okay? Let's not cause a scene; I can stick it out for a while—it barely hurts!"

Luhan nodded reluctantly, biting his lip and glancing around warily. He released Jongdae and turned to his meal, motioning for Jongdae to do the same before dropping the spells surrounding them. They slowly began to eat, neither noticing the puzzled gaze of one Care of Magical Creatures Professor.


	3. a bond to rival horatio's and prince hamlet's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i appreciate the reviews guys, i really do. i was supposed to upload this chap in a few days but... i couldn't resist. enjoy! and let me know what y'all think :) ~ ash

Jongdae winced and curled his hands into the sheets as Poppy dabbed ointment onto his neck, the stinging sensation becoming almost unbearable. He breathed a sigh of relief when she stopped and the sting mellowed a little in response, though it failed to disappear entirely. His hands uncurled and he turned to Poppy with a questioning look in his eyes.

Poppy sighed as she pulled her gloves off, giving him a stern look as she did so. "Kim Jongdae, you know better than to touch your skin with mooncalf dung. You know that it has severe side effects and—"

"But I wore gloves!" Jongdae spluttered.

Luhan rolled his eyes and stopped his jittery, anxiety-ridden pacing for a moment as he turned to glare at Jongdae. "Gloves are useless with you—you have a ridiculous habit of rubbing the back of your neck when you’re stressed, idiot," he snapped.

Jongdae bit his lip, heat rushing up to his cheeks as the reasons for his strange behaviour became apparent. Skin contact with mooncalf dung resulted in a disgusting rash (that would scar if not treated fast), disorientation, paranoia and eventual mental deterioration. It was almost like a natural defence against capture for mooncalves as anyone tracking them would be exposed to mountains of the stuff. It was Jongdae's fertiliser of preference, however, and he was usually extremely careful around it. In his stressed state he had probably forgotten that his gloves were caked in dung and rubbed his neck. The dung would have disappeared with his “Scourgify” charm, but his reaction to it wouldn't have.

Jongdae sighed, his shoulders falling in defeat as he looked weakly at Luhan. He tried to explain his actions. "I was being an idiot. All my plants are—"

"We know, Jongdae," Poppy said comfortingly, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry too much about Severus and I, we'll just order ingredients for the time being.” Poppy’s tone shifted from comforting to firm, however, as she summoned a bottle from her storage room, her expression stern as she faced Jongdae again, “Now, make sure you apply this ointment twice daily, morning and evening, until the bottle is empty. The rash was in the beginning stages and it's all but gone. Your symptoms should disappear with the use of this ointment and the subsequent disappearance of all traces of the rash."

Jongdae nodded, lifting a hand to his neck to rub at it before Luhan slapped it away. Jongdae winced at the confused, tense mess of emotions that flared awake at Luhan's touch. Luhan was a wreck. Jongdae tried to calm Luhan down, reaching out to him, attempting to explain, but Luhan stepped away from his outstretched hand, resolutely refusing to meet his eyes.

Jongdae stared at him in shock; Luhan rarely shut him out like this. Han grabbed the ointment off Poppy, robotically thanking her, then circled his hand around Jongdae's wrist and all but dragged him out of the Hospital Wing.

Jongdae allowed himself to be dragged, unable to protest due to the onslaught of emotions radiating from Luhan. He felt terrible and worried his lip as he looked for a place to calm Luhan down. He spied a familiar alcove and dug his heels into the stone, forcing Luhan to a halt. Luhan was stronger than Jongdae, but Jongdae knew he would never use his extreme strength on him. As predicted, Luhan slowed down and turned to look at Jongdae, his face barely masking his emotions. Jongdae motioned his head towards the alcove and Luhan sighed and nodded his assent, allowing Jongdae to pull him into it.

"I'm sorry, Luhan, I'll be more careful next time," Jongdae promised the moment their eyes met. He put a hand on Luhan's shoulder. "I just wasn't expecting my babies to be such a mess when I returned—you know how I get around plants."

Luhan looked up at Jongdae, eyes flicking to his neck then back to his eyes. He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair distractedly. "You nearly died last time, Jongdae—you need to be careful! Please check your body over with a detection spell before you leave the greenhouses every day. Heeyeon and I would lose our minds with worry if something happened to you again!"

Jongdae sighed and pulled his best friend into a hug. "Luhan, that was years ago—it won't happen again! I'm sorry that you and Heeyeon had to find me in that state, but I promise you'll never see me in such a bad way again. I had yet to learn of the dangers of mooncalf dung then, Luhan, we were students! I know better now, you know that. I'll be more careful, I promise."

Luhan's body was shaking almost imperceptibly as he pulled Jongdae closer, breathing in his scent to calm himself down. His eyes were closed, but Jongdae knew that they were flaring gold. Luhan was losing control.

Jongdae pulled Luhan closer, allowing him to find comfort in the beating of Jongdae’s pulse, in the movement of his chest; he was alive and Luhan needed to assure both his mind and his heart of that before he could calm down enough to regain control. Luhan gladly accepted the contact Jongdae initiated, melting into Jongdae and sighing in relief as his trembling human form was enveloped in Jongdae's embrace. "You’re an idiot, Kim Jongdae. I swear, if this happens again I'm going to call Heeyeon back from her placement in Beauxbatons and make her knock some sense into your stupid head."

"I'm sorry, Luhan, I really am," Jongdae insisted sincerely. "It won't happen again."

"I can't lose you, Jongdae. You know how important you are to me," Luhan mumbled. He clung onto Jongdae, his words muffled by Jongdae's neck.

"I know, Luhan, I know. I'll always be here for you, you know that," Jongdae murmured, stroking Luhan's hair. "You'll never have to worry about losing me. I'd die without you."

Luhan pulled away from Jongdae as Jongdae's words hit him and his body folded in on itself as painfully familiar guilt filled his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jongdae-ah," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jongdae mentally berated himself for his choice of words, realising that they’d had an adverse effect on his partner. He pulled away slightly and pressed his fingers under Luhan's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. Luhan moved his head but his eyes refused to move, focusing stubbornly on Jongdae's shoulder. Jongdae sighed. His fingers traced familiar patterns down Luhan's arms as he tried to erase the guilt he'd caused."Han-ge, it's not your fault, it never was your fault, and it never will be your fault. It was fated. Neither of us can help tha—"

Luhan hands clenched into fists at that, words pouring out of his mouth as he began to shake uncontrollably. "It is my fault! Stop disputing that! I forced you to be my mate, for heaven’s sake. I should never have come to England. I should have stayed in Chin—"

Jongdae pressed a finger to Luhan's lips, his other hand reaching out to curl around Luhan's neck tenderly. "—and then we would both be dead. The bond means that I needed you as much as you needed me. We balance each other out. We're meant to have soul-bonds, Han-ge. A life without you would have killed me—you know that. I need you."

Luhan scoffed, his eyes finally meeting Jongdae's."I ruined you. I ruined any chance you have of having a partner."

Jongdae opened his mouth but Luhan's death glare stopped any sounds of protest from escaping.

"You know I'm right, Jongdae. Heeyeon knows that I'm straight, she knows that our bond and my love for her are separate entities. But you? The moment your boyfriend of five bloody years found out you were bonded to me, a fucking creature of Chinese _mythology,_ he ran! I've ruined your chances of ever finding a man to settle down with!"

"Yah, Han-ge. I'm an independent guy; I don't need no man," Jongdae whispered in Luhan's ear, his tone light.

Luhan let out a surprised laugh and Jongdae smiled in victory. "There we go. Now stop worrying about me. I'm not going to die on you and my love life isn't an issue, okay? And anyway, why are you still here worrying about me when you _still_ haven't written that letter to Heeyeon? She's going to murder your little Fenghuang ass."

Luhan pushed Jongdae away, eyes narrowing dangerously."Yah! Kim Jongdae! I am not little!"

Jongdae laughed, completely used to this side of Luhan, _his_ Luhan."Whatever you say, little birdie. I'm off to bed now—bye!" He ran away, ignoring Luhan's mock-affronted expression and smiling to himself as the feeling of Luhan's contentment spread over their bond, curling around Jongdae's heart.


	4. poet of nature, thou hast wept to know...

Jongdae had skipped out on breakfast again, opting instead to begin preparing his demonstration for his first years. It was a simple affair, but Jongdae hated having to rush his preparation; sometimes he ended up doing more harm to his plant than good.

Today his first year students were going to observe how to plant Yao, a form of grass with magical properties. Its use in potions was common; the difficulty was in the recreation of the appropriate environment. Yao, a plant native to China, needed temperature and nutrition spells cast to perfection in order to ensure its survival. Other than that the plant was relatively low maintenance, needing only the occasional watering and care.

Jongdae planned to give each student a sample of grass to row, which had put a significant dent in his budget as he hadn't had time to grow the excess Yao himself (the majority of his home-grown stock went to Poppy and Severus). As a result, he wanted to make sure the kids knew _exactly_ how to care for the exotic plant before he gave them complete control over them.

Jongdae carried on preparing the mooncalf dung (with extreme care), extracting all the unwanted bits in his sample by hand. A spell would do the job, but it would do a clumsy job and it would mean losing more dung than rubbish.

He sighed as he looked at his stock of dung; it needed replenishing and he was the only one who could do it. He needed fresh mooncalf dung from the forest for tomorrow's lessons or he'd have to use dragon dung, and there was no way he was going to contaminate his plants with that (a bit dramatic, he knew, but dragon dung did not work well with his magical signature). The best time would be after lessons, but if he didn't eat Luhan would kill him and—

"Excuse me? Professor Kim?" a deep voice asked from behind him. Jongdae jumped in surprise, his hands flying to his wand as he turned around.

A wide-eyed Professor Park held up his hands in surrender and Jongdae breathed a sigh of relief. He put his wand down, wrinkling his nose at the mooncalf dung that now stuck to it, transferred from his gloves. He pulled off his gloves and muttered a wandless “Scourgify” at his wand before turning back to the intruder.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting anyone and you startled me," Jongdae greeted him by way of explanation.

Professor Park smiled at Jongdae (and could he just say _wow, this guy could smile_ ) before pushing some food into his hands. "You weren't at breakfast, so your boyfriend sent this to you. He ordered me to tell you to eat it before you pass out from lack of nutrition. Is he always that…"He trailed off, an appropriate word to describe Luhan escaping his grasp.

Jongdae laughed. "Mad? Pushy? Over the top? Yeah, that's Han. Sorry about that. He worries about me a lot, mainly because—"

The door to the greenhouse opened and half of his class rushed in. Jongdae rolled his eyes. First years were always early to everything. "I'm sorry, Professor, you should probably head off. I have a lesson to teach," Jongdae continued apologetically. "But, um, I need some more mooncalf dung for my plants ASAP and—"

Professor Park smiled. "Don't worry, the previous professor gave me a heads-up about your regular dung-foraging sessions; I'll let you into the enclosure. Just meet me at the entrance after your last class and I'll lift the protective spells." He looked over at the confused students before waving goodbye to Jongdae. "Make sure you eat! I'll get going now."

Jongdae watched as the new Professor walked out of the greenhouse, the first years staring at him in awe as he left.

"Oh Merlin, I can't believe I just met him in real life." "Do you think he'll let us have autographs?" "He's so handsome—did you hear about the scar on his back? I can't wait to see it!" "He's so awesome! He's tamed creatures that people haven't even heard of!" "Did you read the article in _Witch Weekl—_ "

Jongdae coughed pointedly andwith a raised eyebrow waited for his students to stop gossiping. An awkward silence descended over the room as the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor combination realised they'd been caught ogling a Professor.

Jongdae rolled his eyes, counting heads to make sure his class had arrived in its entirety before pulling out his register and beginning his attendance checks. He rolled up the scroll, tapped it with his wand, and sent it off to the Professor in charge before turning to face his students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, kids. Count your blessings, you have me as your teacher for your first ever lesson. I can assure you there are many students out there who were unlucky enough to be late to Professor Snape's lesson on their first day, and the week-long detention that followed is a fate everyone wants to avoid. Many students have also had the misfortune of failing to do the required reading for Professor McGonagall's class and they, too, suffered greatly. You lucky little things have me instead, and trust me, that's a good thing.

"Now, as long as you do as I tell you, we'll get along just fine. If you purposefully harm a plant, I will reciprocate. Don't underestimate me on that. I will deduct fifty points faster than you can blink. Hand in my assignments, come to my lessons on time, be nice to each other, and you'll find yourself in my good books."

Jongdae finished his obligatory warnings, surveyed his class' faces and nodded. They seemed sufficiently frightened. He smiled. "Now that that's over, let's begin the lesson. I suggest you pay attention because you’re all going to be getting one of these babies to look after, and if you fail to look after them appropriately because you didn't listen, _I will fail you_."

Jongdae pulled his gloves back on, walked to his desk and focused on the plant. "Now, fertiliser is very important in Herbology and fertiliser preference depends entirely on the person. I prefer mooncalf dung, and as long as you handle my plants you will use _only_ mooncalf dung. On your own plants, however, dragon, phoenix and unicorn dung are among the many types you can use. Do your research well, and you can find the best fertiliser for you. Now, a quick warning, folks—mooncalf dung is highly dangerous so do not let it touch your bare skin…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was a sample of teacher!Jongdae... what do you guys think? is this au to your liking? is there anything you'd like to see? let me know down below!
> 
> ash


	5. to the great western woods...

Jongdae flopped his head down on his desk and groaned. He _hated_ first days.

He hated first days even more when bratty Ravenclaws deemed his subject worthless because it wasn't academic enough (he was pretty sure they hated it because they sucked at it, but whatever).

He hated first days when snooty Slytherins and Gryffindors decided they could disrupt his lesson and try to sabotage his plants (the subsequent loss of 100 House points each for intended damage to a living being had shut them up effectively).

And he hated first days even more when his rowdy Hufflepuffs decided that staring at him blankly and joking around during practical time was better than working.

To be honest, stereotyping by House was useless because all of his stupid, annoying first year students pulled all of those stunts on their first day every year without fail, irrespective of their House. Once they learned that he was not to be messed with, it was okay; teaching them that lesson drained him, though, and he really didn't want to move right now. But if he didn't get up and show his face, Luhan would—

"Jongdae?"

Speak of the devil. "Mmm?" Jongdae responded, refusing to lift his head.

"You're not feeling too good, are you? The bond's dragged my sorry ass over here to see what's up because you're obviously feeling really shit about something," Luhan said. He came to a stop behind Jongdae, his warm palms finding their way to Jongdae's shoulders. "So, what's up?"

Jongdae's shoulders sagged and he lifted his head slightly, only to bang it on the table in frustration. "I hate first years," he mumbled. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them," he repeated, banging his head on the table with each repetition.

Luhan sighed and placed his palm beneath Jongdae's forehead, causing Jongdae to slam against his hand instead of the table. Luhan's hand felt warm and comfortable, so Jongdae stopped moving his head and just lay there, resting his forehead on Luhan's palm.

Luhan's other hand rubbed circles into Jongdae's skin and before long the tension had flooded out of his shoulders as his body responded subconsciously to his bondmate's touch. Jongdae lifted his head off the table and turned, burying his face in Luhan's shirt and wrapping his hands around Luhan's middle.

"Feeling better now?" Luhan asked, stroking his fingers through Jongdae's hair.

Jongdae leaned into Luhan's touch and nodded his assent, struggling not to make a weird noise of contentment as their bond heightened his responsiveness. Their bond had been terrible when they'd first met at university, but over time it had become less demanding.

Luhan was a Fenghuang, a rare human-bird creature that was almost like an Animagus but much more powerful and ancient. Luhan could transform into a bird that was as large as a dragon and his elemental magic was incredibly powerful. He didn't even need a wand, but he used one so as not to draw attention to himself. His kind was rare, ancient and powerful; many wizards hunted his kind and not all had good intentions.

Luhan's birth had sparked another birth: Jongdae's and once they'd met there was no going back. They soon learned that being parted for too long would result in extreme pain, especially in the beginning stages of bonding. As their bond aged, separation became more bearable; they could now go months without each other (although their bond tended to protest a lot).

They weren't romantically linked, but their soul bond meant that they needed and depended on each other. Their bond also meant that they could vaguely read each others' emotions, and that Luhan's touch, for example, could calm Jongdae down like no one else could.

Jongdae's musings caused him to forget to control himself; a moan escaped his mouth as Luhan's fingers—which had begun to massage his neck and shoulders—hit a particular spot.

Luhan laughed, continuing his ministrations as Jongdae blushed a bright red. "Chen-Chen, I think you need a good, hot bath and a massage from yours truly to relax all your sore muscles," he teased, giggling when Jongdae made an annoyed sound.

Luhan calmed down, continuing his massage and a comfortable silence settled over them again, the sounds of the magical plants swaying in a nonexistent breeze filling their ears along with the— BANG!

Jongdae's head snapped up and Luhan stopped his massage, his fingers lingering on Jongdae's neck as they both turned to stare at the blushing intruder.

Professor Park stood there awkwardly, surrounded by Jongdae's precious gardening tools as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at them. "Um, you weren't at the enclosure so I—I figured you might have forgotten and I came to find you. I didn't mean to interrupt, I'm sorry. I'll just go," he rushed out, turning around to leave quickly.

"Wait! I'm coming!" Jongdae called. He grabbed his wand and flashed a smile in Luhan's direction. "Duty calls!" he exclaimed, and he ran out after the other Professor, ignoring Luhan's fond look of exasperation.

 **� ...** **�**

"Hey! Professor Park! Wait up!" Jongdae called, rushing out of the greenhouse.

The new Professor turned around at the sound of his name, his stance awkward as he waited for Jongdae to catch up. Within seconds Jongdae was there and the new guy replied,"It's Chanyeol, I'm Park Chanyeol. Please don't call me Professor Park—I sound so old!"

Jongdae's mouth fell open in shock. "No way—you're Park Chanyeol? _The_ Park Chanyeol? What on earth are you doing at Hogwarts?!" he asked, incredulous that such a famous explorer and creature researcher was a Professor at _Hogwarts_ , of all places.

The new guy—no, _Chanyeol—_ laughed and the awkwardness was replaced by amusement as he regarded Jongdae with bright eyes. "Are you telling me you haven't read the _Daily Prophet's_ numerous articles yet?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his tone.

Jongdae blushed a bright red. "Um—I-I don't really follow the _Daily Prophet_. It’s a bunch of garbage!" His eyes widened at what his words implied, and he quickly attempted to refute it, stumbling over his words as he insisted, "Not to say that you're garbage, I mean—"

Chanyeol's deep, animated laugh interrupted Jongdae's stuttering. "Relax! I feel the same. I think anyone with a brain feels the same about it, Prof—wait, what was your name?"

Jongdae made his introductions, mentally slapping himself, knowing he should have introduced himself rather than staring in shock at Chanyeol because he was famous. Ah! He was such an idiot!

Chanyeol smiled. "It's nice to find a fellow Korean here," he mused. "I heard there's one other Korean girl…?"

Jongdae smiled knowingly. "Yeah, Heeyeon's one of our Transfiguration Professors, but I'm afraid she's taken, if that's what interests you," he teased with a grin.

Chanyeol's eyes widened and he shook his head profusely. "No, no, don’t get me wrong! It's just nice to have people who can speak my mother tongue! I swear I'm not that type of—"

This time, Jongdae was the one who burst out laughing. "Don't worry, Chanyeol-ssi, I believe you," he reassured, winking at Chanyeol, who blushed an even brighter shade of red. "Shall we go find the mooncalves, then?" Jongdae suggested, and he walked off in the direction of the forest with Chanyeol following behind.

They reached the borders of the Forbidden Forest and Jongdae reflexively reached for his wand, frowning when he felt a restraining hand on his arm. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning to see a frowning Chanyeol focused on his wand arm.

Chanyeol's fingers curled around Jongdae's arm, slowly pulling it away from his wand. "Don't threaten them," he stated,his eyes flicking back up to Jongdae's as he released his arm.

"The creatures don't deserve to feel under threat. If you walk in there with your wand drawn you'll frighten off the weaker creatures and anger the stronger ones. Your Ministry of Magic feels it best to treat creatures of the wild like savages, but I can assure you they’re anything but. The majority will leave you alone if you come in peace, and almost all are willing to negotiate. Unless you're dealing with a werewolf, or another creature that cannot control its instincts, do not draw your wand," he insisted.

"Wands equate to threat in the mind of any magical creature; all have been tortured by them," Chanyeol continued, "I know that offensive tactics are the strategy your Ministry endorses, but there are many other ministries across the globe that choose to treat magical creatures as the intelligent creatures they are, not something lesser. Please, listen to me: don't ever draw your wand against a magical creature unless there is no other way," he pleaded, his eyes alight with passion as he tried to convey his perspective on Jongdae's behaviour.

Jongdae looked at his wand, nodding as he let his hand fall loosely to his side. "But, um, the Centaurs aren't very friendly, Prof—Chanyeol-ssi. If we run into them—”

"Trust me on this, Jongdae. Follow my lead; I'll take you to the mooncalves safely. No one will harm you," Chanyeol insisted, giving Jongdae a reassuring smile. "I promise, I'm more than able to protect you," he teased, laughing at Jongdae's glare.

"I don't need protecting!" Jongdae insisted as he followed Chanyeol into the forest. "I'm fine!"

"Sure you are," Chanyeol laughed, grinning at the death glare he received in return.

They walked through the forest; the sunlight filtered through the trees and penetrated the gloomy mist, providing some semblance of light. The walk was peaceful, though, the tranquil setting providing the perfect ambience for introspection. Jongdae smiled to himself. Chanyeol was right: usually a trip to the forest meant a brief scuffle with the Centaurs (at the very least) and it wasn’t anywhere near as oddly pleasant as this.

The tranquil atmosphere was soon shattered, however, by the sound of an arrow being shot. Chanyeol's head shot up in alarm and he immediately backtracked, taking a protective stance before Jongdae. "Don’t reach for your wand," Chanyeol warned as a herd of Centaurs entered their vision, weapons drawn.

"What is your purpose here, human?" one of the Centaurs asked, eyes narrowed as he surveyed Chanyeol and Jongdae.

Chanyeol bowed before the centaur and Jongdae quickly followed suit. "We apologise for intruding, _igétis_ , but we have come to gather some supplies. We will harm no one, we have only come to take what we need," Chanyeol answered.

The centaur bowed his head in acknowledgement of their bow. "I am not the _igétis_ , but I shall act in our leader's place. I am Fortem, and you have just entered Centaur territory, wizard."

"My name is Chanyeol and I apologise for the sudden nature of our arrival. I would have negotiated a time but Wizard-Centaur relations here are weak. Our reason for being here is simple: we care for magical plants on our main grounds and we need fertiliser in the form of mooncalf dung," Chanyeol replied, rising out of his bow and looking at Fortem.

The Centaur nodded, considering Chanyeol's answer before replying carefully. "You have treated us as tradition dictates; as the laws of our revered ancestors state, you may pass. However, we must insist that you leave the wood sticks with us."  
  
"Wood?" Jongdae asked as Chanyeol turned to him.

"Wands," Chanyeol replied, looking at Jongdae and holding out his hand.

"That's illegal, Chanyeol-ssi!" Jongdae retorted, his hand curling protectively around his wand.

"Trust me, Jongdae-ssi, no one ever gets anywhere by following the laws of a bigoted ministry," Chanyeol insisted. "Give me your wand, Jongdae-ssi. I won't let you get hurt."

Jongdae bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth as he handed his wand over to Chanyeol, albeit grudgingly.

Chanyeol gave him a grateful smile and turned to the herd again. Bowing once more, he handed over their wands to Fortem.

Fortem waved the rest of the herd away, giving the two men a full bow as he took their wands away. "I shall await your return here," he informed them, moving away from the path so that Jongdae and Chanyeol could make their way through.

Jongdae stuck close to Chanyeol, his heart beating erratically at the thought of having left his wand with a _Centaur._

"Don't worry too much, Jongdae-ssi," Chanyeol said comfortinglywhen he noticed Jongdae's demeanour. "Centaurs are trustworthy folk. All you need to do is respect their customs and they will treat you courteously. If we do as we said we would, thencollect our wands and leave, the Centaurs will allow us to pass freely through their land. We will have earned their trust. They don't care for human magic; they have the stars. Wands hinder rather than aid them, Jongdae. They don't have any use for them."

Jongdae nodded, deciding that it was probably best to trust Chanyeol. A silence settled over them as they walked the short way to the mooncalf enclosure, only to be broken when Chanyeol turned to face Jongdae. "Hey, Jongdae-ssi, I really am sorry about crashing into you that day. It was an accident, I—"

"In all honesty, I should be the one apologising! I was so rude and I'm really sorry. I was in a bad mood because my Snare was scheduled to arrive and it was so sunny that I was afraid it would be irreversibly damaged. When we collided I was on my way to retrieve it, and I channelled my anger at you instead. I really am sorry, Chanyeol-ssi," Jongdae insisted, smiling sheepishly at Chanyeol.

Chanyeol smiled back. "Are we even then?"

Jongdae nodded. "Definitely. I can't go around offending people of such high status, now can I?" he teased.

Chanyeol grimaced."High status, my foot. I'm just a nerd who likes to learn about all sorts of cultures, including those of magical creatures."

"Yeah, you fit the profile of a nerd quite nicely," Jongdae joked, winking at Chanyeol, "but then again, so do I."

"If someone who looks as attractive as you is classed as a nerd, I'm more than willing to join that category," Chanyeol replied with a teasing grin.

Jongdae's cheeks heated up. "I think you need to look in the mirror, Park Chanyeol-ssi," he muttered in response, blushing even harder as Chanyeol laughed and they lapsed back into their comfortable silence.

"So, when did you two meet?" Chanyeol asked suddenly, making Jongdae jump slightly. Chanyeol turned away as soon as he'd asked the question, lifting the spells that prevented Jongdae from reaching the mooncalves.

Jongdae, realising that they had reached the enclosure, began pulling out his containers, wandlessly unshrinking them and loading them as he puzzled over the question."When did I meet who?" he asked as Chanyeol studiously observed a mooncalf that was (conveniently) in the opposite direction to Jongdae.

Chanyeol turned to face Jongdae, looking slightly awkward as he took one of the containers and helped Jongdae load them using a Levitation charm. "Um, that breakfast guy—the Chinese one," he said in a rush, almost as if he was asking something inappropriate.

Jongdae smiled fondly as he recognised who Chanyeol was referring to, overlooking Chanyeol's awkwardness in his hurry to answer the question."Ah, Luhan! We've known each other since university.He came here as a transfer student for a year and ended up liking it so much that he spent the rest of his time here, and ended up beginning his career here too. He's the Defence teacher," Jongdae replied, tactfully leaving out why Luhan had actually remained behind.

He grabbed his filled containers and shrank them again, then pocketed them. He turned to Chanyeol, who'd done the same.

"Shall we head back?" Jongdae asked.

Chanyeol nodded and they began making their way back in comfortable silence. Chanyeol walked ahead, head bowed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He seemed to be deeply contemplating something and Jongdae found himself fascinated by it. Jongdae watched Chanyeol as they walked back. They collected their wands, bowed to Fortem and left the forest before Chanyeol finally broke out of his trance.

Chanyeol smiled at Jongdae, his smile widening as Jongdae returned it. "I'd like to meet Luhan-ssi," Chanyeol began. "It'd be nice to know someone else who speaks Korean, even if he's not Korean."

Jongdae smiled as Chanyeol lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly, as if waiting for Jongdae to tell him he was being weird. Instead, Jongdae flashed Chanyeol an even brighter smile. "Of course you can meet him! He'd love to meet you too, actually. He thinks I have no friends," Jongdae confessed, eyes widening when Chanyeol raised his eyebrows. "Not that I'm assuming we're friends—well, I'd like to be, but—"

Chanyeol bit his lip to refrain from laughing, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he watched Jongdae stutter. "Merlin, Jongdae-ssi, you're more awkward than me. I really didn't think that was possible!" Chanyeol teased.

Jongdae blushed, murmuring a quick "Sorry"—and he was, he was sorry. He was so awkward sometimes that it was a wonder that Luhan even put up with him—

"Don't be sorry. It's cute! You go all blush-y and you stumble awkwardly over your sentences and you just look really beau—cute. You look really cute, and also I kind of want to be friends with you too, so..." Chanyeol trailed off awkwardly, going slightly red when his tongue slipped.

Jongdae refused to dwell on it, knowing from experience how embarrassing it was to suffer a slip of the tongue. "Thanks and, um, well, you could always come down to Luhan's office after lessons. We tend to relax there before dinner anyway, so we wouldn't be going out of our way or anything. Not that we mind going out of our way, but—I'm rambling again, aren't I?" Jongdae asked when he saw Chanyeol struggling to hold back his laughter again.

Chanyeol ignored the latter question, opting instead to focus on the awkwardly delivered invitation. "I'd love to. Where's his office?"

Jongdae smiled in relief and explained the location of Luhan's office: second floor, at the end of the corridor in an alcove covered by a tapestry of the Founders Four, mutter a revealing spell and voila! Chanyeol nodded. "I think I've got that," he muttered, forehead creasing as he committed it to memory.

“Yep, I’ve got it,” he laughed when he was done, “I’m just a little absent-minded sometimes. So, Jongdae-ssi-”

“Jongdae is fine. We’re the same age, right? I remember reading that somewhere in my first year and being absolutely blown away that an undergrad could make such huge discoveries!” Jongdae interjected.

Chanyeol blushed. “O-okay, Jongdae,” he tried out, continuing when Jongdae smiled in encouragement. “Actually, about the young prodigy thing that everyone likes to insist on—I can assure you I was nowhere near as exceptional as they make me out to be. I simply had unorthodox ways of working and they led to an accidental discovery. My professors were so mad!”

Jongdae's stomach chose that moment to rumble and his skin flushed with embarrassment. "I think dinner's calling us," he joked sheepishly.

Chanyeol looked towards the castle eagerly and Jongdae smiled. He magically transported the containers of fertiliser to his quarters before heading to the Great Hall with Chanyeol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here y'all go... 
> 
> please ignore my incredibly ott chapter titles... i can't help but be extra ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> lmk what y'all think abt these new developments! 
> 
> ash


	6. icarus falls

Jongdae fought the urge to collapse into his chair as he watched his seventh years pack their belongings. The final bell had sounded and it couldn't have come fast enough! The first week back was always hell (for students and teachers alike) but this week was exceptionally difficult. His younger years were (grudgingly) coping, but his fourth and fifth years had really struggled.

The shift in the curriculum had really affected them and Jongdae knew they had understood hardly any of the theory he had attempted to explain. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to ward away his oncoming headache, trying to think of innovative ways to teach advanced herbological theory. How could he simplify complex but significant debates so that they would make sense to rookie Herbology students? Perhaps he could—

"Sir?" a hesitant voice asked, interrupting his musing.

Jongdae snapped his head up, confused. "Yes?"

Jackson Morgan rubbed his neck awkwardly, hesitating momentarily. "I—I was wondering if you could help me out, Professor? I want to apply to join the training program at the Royal Institute of Herbology but the entry requirements are insane! I have to achieve three O’s in my N.E.W.T.s _and_ submit my own project on the side. I've already planned what I want to do, but I was hoping for some advice to ensure that I've made the right choices. Could you help me out, sir?"

Jongdae stared blankly while Jackson's words sank in and his eyes widened when it hit him. Jongdae beamed at Jackson, proud that his student had such high aspirations. "Of course! I'm free after lesson one tomorrow—pop by Greenhouse 2 whenever you're free and I'll do my best!"

Jackson grinned. "Thanks, sir! You're awesome, honestly," he burst out, struggling to contain his relief.

Jongdae laughed. "I'm far from awesome, Jackson—but thank you. And remember, if you're ever in need of any help or advice, I'm always here!" Jongdae meant that. Students who dared to dream deserved to achieve their dreams, and Jongdae would fight to help them do so.

Jackson picked up his belongings as the second bell went and flashed Jongdae another bright smile. "Thanks again, Professor!" he called as he left the room.

Jongdae smiled, watching him leave. This was what he loved most about his job; it was wonderful to watch children grow from clueless first years into adults with dreams, aspirations and, above all, a desire to succeed.

Jongdae got up and cast a series of spells to right his classroom as he dwelled on Jackson's confession. The Royal Institute was incredibly prestigious and those who applied required applications of pure gold. Jackson's project would have to be something innovative, something that showcased his skills… Jongdae stuffed his wand back into his robes, his thoughts occupied with the challenges Jackson faced as he locked the greenhouse up and made his way across the grounds.

He walked through the castle, nodding absentmindedly whenever a greeting met his ears. He ran over possible ways to aid Jackson as he walked and decided that the best thing he could do at the moment was to review the entries of those who had already been accepted. If he could find a common distinguishing factor and convey it to Jackson, it would give the boy a boost in the right direction.

Jongdae absentmindedly pushed aside a tapestry before him, starting when he realised that it was the tapestry of the Founders Four—he was already outside Luhan's office. Jongdae shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind as he muttered a revealing spell. The familiar sight of Luhan's office door greeted his eyes and Jongdae stepped forward on sure feet. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, calling out a teasing "Honey, I'm home!" as he did so.

He closed the door behind him and brushed his hair out of his eyes, frowning when he received no response.

"Luhan?" he called as he surveyed the room. "Where are you?"

"Up here!" came the reply.

Jongdae snapped his head up in surprise and let out a shocked squeak. His heart jumped into his throat in reaction to the sudden, completely irrational fear that pumped through his veins. Luhan was going to fall!

"Need anything, Jongdae?" Luhan called, amusement evident in his tone. 

Jongdae's eyes narrowed as his fear left him, replaced by frustration. He hated this prank. Luhan _knew_ that. Jongdae's emotions and words made that very clear! Luhan flying in Fenghuang form was one thing, him flying with a broom was another; but flying with his magic alone was an accident waiting to happen. He'd been there, for Merlin's sake! It was a foolish feat to attempt. All it would take was a momentary lapse in Luhan's concentration and he'd find himself plummeting to his death!

"Jongdae-ah, chill out! I'm just flying," Luhan called, responding to the irrational fear that was flooding through the bond.

Jongdae ignored his words, clenching his fists."You did that on purpose!" he accused, glaring at Luhan's faux-innocent face.

Luhan refrained from answering and chose instead to flip his body so that he was no longer hovering upside down. He lowered his levitating form, crossing his legs and folding his arms as he did so. Jongdae watched Luhan concentrate and control the movement of his body with his mind. Luhan's eyes were soon level with Jongdae's but Jongdae had to endure Luhan’s body remaining afloat. Jongdae ignored Luhan's non-verbal statement and folded his own arms childishly. He knew Luhan was controlled, but that wasn't the point. He could still get hurt!

"You're horrible. I don't love you anymore," Jongdae complained. His whiny tone counteracted the glare he sent Luhan's way. He was being petty and he darn well knew it, but that didn’t mean his concerns were unfounded.

Luhan laughed, his eyes alight with mirth as he watched Jongdae revert back into a child. "You're being a baby, Jongdae-ah," he teased, reaching out a hand to ruffle Jongdae's hair.

Jongdae stepped away and slapped at Luhan's hand. "You know I hate it when you risk your safety like that!"

Luhan raised an eyebrow at Jongdae. "You only hate it because you're jealous and you miss flying," he pointed out.

"I am not jealous!" Jongdae insisted, pouting. "I’m just afraid you’ll lose control and fall, Han-ge."

"I won’t fall, Jongade-ah" Luhan replied. "Honestly, I will never understand why you won't even _try_ to get over your fear of flying."

Jongdae met the challenge in his bondmate’s eyes. "I'm not too scared to try! I just... I just haven't had the chance yet."

Luhan held out his hands. "Okay. I'm giving you a chance right now. Join me," he challenged.

Jongdae gulped as he looked at Luhan's hands. He _could_ fly. He just really hated it. Flying made him think of the Quidditch injury he'd sustained in seventh year. He'd ended up in St Mungo's for three weeks and he'd never quite recovered from the pain he'd had to endure for the rest of the year as a result of it.

Luhan sighed. "Jongdae-ah, the accident was years ago. It hurts me to see you fear flying so much, especially when flying is as much a part of your soul as it is mine. Please, Jongdae. Take my hand. I'll help you, I promise."

Jongdae worried his lip, a sigh escaping at Luhan's words (which were far too true for his liking). He missed being able to fly without panicking. He missed playing Quidditch. It pained him to see Luhan fly away in his Fenghuang form; all Jongdae wanted to do was join him but his stupid cowardice wouldn't let him.

Luhan knew those emotions as well as Jongdae did, having felt them through the bond. Luhan had been attempting this for years, believing that if anyone could erase Jongdae's fear of flying it would be him. He was right. Jongdae trusted Luhan with his soul, so why not with his life?

Jongdae took a deep breath and pushed his jumbled mess of thoughts away. He could do this. He owed it to Luhan, to himself, to both of them. He stepped forward and his eyes met Luhan's as their fingers intertwined. Luhan's eyes widened with shock as he slowly lowered his own feet to the ground and pulled Jongdae's body closer.

"Are you sure, Jongdae-ah?" Luhan murmured, the shock in his eyes replaced with concern.

Jongdae nodded as firmly as he could. "I'll do it. I'll do it for you. And for me."

Luhan eyes searched Jongdae's own, convincing himself that Jongdae was serious. After moments of deliberation, Luhan nodded. His hands clasped Jongdae's elbows and Jongdae mirrored him, clasping Luhan's elbows. Jongdae closed his eyes and calmed his breathing as he handed the reigns over to Luhan.

"You're going to love this, Jongdae-ah," Luhan promised as he began to lift them off the ground, controlling the air currents with the elemental magic he was gifted with. Jongdae's fingers tightened their grip on Luhan's arms as Jongdae felt his feet lift off the ground.

"Chen-Chen," Luhan whispered. "It's going to be okay. I've got you, yeah? Just focus on me."

Jongdae fought against the urge to hyperventilate in an attempt to control the panic that coiled in his gut.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

Jongdae repeated the mantra in his head, forcing himself to take deep breaths and release them in accordance with his thoughts. After what felt like an age (but was probably half a minute) he opened his eyes. He released a shaky breath and smiled weakly at Luhan. Luhan smiled back, eyes torn between expressing concern and pride at Jongdae's emotional struggle, which was probably assaulting Luhan's own emotions through their bond.

"You really are a Gryffindor," Luhan murmured, surveying Jongdae with an awed look in his eyes. "I can't believe you just did that."

Jongdae barked out a nervous laugh. "It's not over yet, Han. I've yet to look down."

Luhan raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to look down to be brave. Trying to do something you fear is bravery in itself, Jongdae-ah. I'm proud of you."  
  
Jongdae nodded in reply and took a deep breath, knowing that he had to face his fear and actually look down at some point. He tried to move his face but his eyes wouldn't co-operate. He wanted to scream! Why was it so damn hard?

He clung onto Luhan's elbows and took another deep, shuddering breath. He forced his eyes to the floor and gasped out a strangled, "Holy shit!"

They were so high up that Jongdae couldn't even read the clock that hung on the wall, and while that could be partially due to the sudden dizziness in his head he was sure it was the height oh Merlin why had he agreed to this he couldn't—

"Breathe, Jongdae, breathe," Luhan murmured, sensing Jongdae's internal panic. He pulled Jongdae closer, his fingers threading through his mate’s hair as Jongdae complied, gasping out short breaths.

"Lu-Luhan, we're going to get hurt! Merlin, we need to get down, we have to get down, we—"

"Jongdae!"

Jongdae's head snapped up and a whimper escaped his lips as he stared into Luhan's eyes.

Luhan unwrapped Jongdae's hand from his elbow and brought it to his chest. "Breathe with me," Luhan ordered, taking a deep breath and releasing it.

Jongdae did as he was told, his rational side returning as the panic left him, replaced by a sense of calm.

"Did you just cast a calming charm?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Luhan, who smiled crookedly at him.

"Maybe," Luhan admitted. "Maybe not."

Jongdae pouted and Luhan laughed. "There's my Chen-Chen."

Jongdae rolled his eyes in response and moved his hand back to Luhan's elbow as he chanced a look down. A sense of unease filled him and he frowned, ready to ask Luhan to bring them down again. Luhan beat him to it, however, and was already lowering their bodies.  
  
"I think that's enough for today, Jongdae," Luhan murmured as they reached the ground. He pressed a kiss to Jongdae's temple and tightened his hold on Jongdae's body, knowing that his bondmate would fall without his support. Once Luhan was confident that Jongdae was stable, he loosened his hold and pulled Jongdae into a hug.  
  
"I'm so proud of you, Kim Jongdae," Luhan whispered, his lips against Jongdae's ear. "Thank you for trusting me to do that."

Jongdae didn’t answer, he _couldn't_ answer. He opted instead to pull Luhan closer and rest his forehead on Luhan's shoulder. After a few moments Jongdae lifted his head and met Luhan's eyes.

"I love you," Jongdae said. "And I'm sorry."

Luhan's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why are you apologising?"

"I'm such a coward. I can't believe I couldn't even look at the gr—"

Luhan pressed his fingers to Jongdae's lips. "Jongdae, don't. I know what you're about to say and I don't want to hear it. I will not stand here and listen to you deprecate yourself. You're not a coward, you're not worthless—you're none of the things you constantly insist you are. You did an incredibly brave thing right now, Jongdae. Your fear of flying only made you braver. You are not a damn coward and I am sick of hearing you say that!"

Jongdae felt his eyes tear up at Luhan's words and the sheer frustration flooding through their bond. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Luhan sighed as he pulled Jongdae close, their heartbeats aligning. "I know."

The two wizards were too wrapped up in one another to notice that the door was slightly ajar, and that a third person had been witness to the ordeal. Park Chanyeol bit his lip as he looked at the pair, guilt clawing at his chest. His traitorous eyes couldn’t help but linger on the enticing flush of Jongdae’s cheeks, the way his lithe body melted into his partner. He was beautiful. Beautiful and oh-so taken. The knowledge shook him out of his reverie and Chanyeol backed away quietly—he should never have been privy to what was obviously such an intimate scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaand here we are again. i hope you like this chapter of mine, i know that i'm particularly fond of it. on a scale of 1-10, how adorable wold y'all say luhan and jongdae are? let me know what you guys think down in the comments!!
> 
> ash


	7. the colour purple

The school term was going full-speed ahead and Jongdae's room was (arguably) faring a lot better than it had on previous days. His clothes had been properly unpacked, his ink bottles were capped, his quills had been wiped clean—everything was as it should be.

Well, it was until Jongdae woke up. He opened his eyes briefly and looked to the right where his alarm clock rested. He glared at the offensive item as he attempted to discern the time and a smile graced his face when he realised he had five more minutes. Jongdae rolled over and snuggled into his pillow with a contented sigh. He had five whole minutes!

Seconds (minutes) later, the stupid Muggle alarm clock that Heeyeon had bought and charmed for him began to beep. Jongdae grumbled and sent a silencing charm its way and snuggled further into his nest (pillow). The charms Heeyeon had cast deflected the spell and the clock beeped louder in response. Jongdae threw a pillow at it; its beeps rose in volume.

With a resigned sigh, Jongdae kicked off his covers and stretched. He ran one hand through his messy hair and used the other to reach for the clock and manually press the snooze button. A wonderful, blissful silence filled the room. Jongdae rubbed at his eyes to clear his vision as he grudgingly stood up and left the warmth of his bed for the cool bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, got changed and styled his hair before he could deem himself ready to face the day.

He left the cool confines of the bathroom and walked past his unmade bed without a glance in its direction. Cleaning could wait; Jongdae had more important business to conduct before he left for the Great Hall. At the door to his plant room he cast a night vision spell, then carefully slipped inside and waited for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust.

Jongdae scanned the room and nodded in approval at the progress all his plants were making—even his Snare was faring well! He cast the appropriate charms to ensure each plant had the right environment surrounding and containing it and then left the room as carefully as he had entered it. He had a smile on his face as he made his way into the Great Hall, a greeting on his lips for all those he passed. Jongdae liked Wednesdays. He flopped into his seat and turned to send Luhan a bright grin as soon as he sat down.

Luhan quirked an eyebrow: "You're surprisingly happy for someone who isn't a morning person," he commented.

Jongdae simply smiled angelically in response as he sent a cheery wave Minerva's way. Minerva nodded back with a puzzled look as if she, too, was taken aback by his cheerfulness. Jongdae heaped toast onto his plate and looked around in an attempt to locate the jam. Luhan rolled his eyes and murmured an Accio. Jongdae's bondmate caught the summoned jam and opened it. He picked up a knife and a piece of Jongdae's toast and began to spread. "So, what's got you into this mood?" Luhan asked.

Jongdae watched his bondmate's actions with a fond smile. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the clouds are abso—"

"Mmm-hmm," Luhan interrupted disbelievingly. "When did singing birds and bright sunlight become a good thing in the morning?"

Jongdae feigned a hurt expression and adopted an offended tone. "Luhan! If someone heard you, they'd think I hated the morning. Mornings are useful and productive times, Luhan. I love mornings."

Luhan snorted. "Yeah, and I love Celestina Warbeck. Spill, Jongdae-ah." His tone resembled that of a whining puppy at the latter part of the sentence. He wasn't annoyed at Jongdae's antics, not really. He never was.

Jongdae laughed at that; Luhan's hatred of Celestina Warbeck far outshone Jongdae's hatred of mornings. "Okay, okay, you're right! I have one lesson today—just one. And then I have five blissful free periods to spend with my plants," Jongdae confessed.

Luhan rolled his eyes fondly. "Of course plants are involved. I swear, you love plants more than anything on this planet."

Jongdae laughed and took the toast Luhan offered. He bit into the jammy goodness and held back a moan—jam was _so_ good. He took his time chewing and swallowed the toast with a gulp of tea. He nodded in response to Luhan's statement. "Yes, plants are the best things on this planet."

Luhan slapped his arm. "Yah! You're meant to say that you love me more," Luhan complained, aiming a childish pout at Jongdae.

Jongdae sent Luhan an indulgent smile and reached under the table to intertwine their fingers. "I said plants are the best things on this planet. I didn't say I loved them more than you," Jongdae reminded teasingly.

Luhan raised an eyebrow and waited. "Not enough" were his unspoken words.

Jongdae complied in a purposefully loud, dramatic whisper. "I love you the most. You're the most important person in my life. I wouldn't be able to bear life without you, I—"

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too," Luhan interrupted hurriedly with red-tipped ears as he noted the amused expressions of the Professors within earshot. "Now, shh!"

Jongdae stuck out his tongue. "You wanted me to confess my undying love," he teased. "So I did!"

Luhan groaned. "You're incredibly annoying—has anyone told you that?"

Jongdae pretended to think about it. "Nope," he replied, popping the P.

"Lies," Luhan muttered. Jongdae smirked.

They turned back to their breakfast after their little squabble, hands still joined under the table, oblivious to the rest of the world. The other Professors had stopped staring after Jongdae's loud proclamation—all except one. Park Chanyeol observed their interactions, a kaleidoscope of emotion in his eyes as he watched Luhan feed Jongdae.

"Don't dwell on it, mate," a nearby Professor murmured. "You'll get used to their sickeningly cute ways after a while—we all have, students and staff alike. I know it's strange but what you see is actually what you get with those two. They mean the world to each other."

Chanyeol plastered a smile onto his face and turned to the (Charms?) Professor. "If only we all had someone like that."

The Professor nodded in agreement and returned to his food. Chanyeol's food lay forgotten as his eyes returned to the soppy couple. His eyes flickered over Jongdae's face and his heart tightened. He wanted Jongdae to look at _him_ like that. He groaned internally as he recognised the curling, jealous feeling that roiled around his gut. He was an idiot, an idiot who was attracted to a stubborn, whiny, infuriatingly handsome and oblivious man. And, worst of all, it was going to be one hundred percent unrequited.

With a sigh Chanyeol pushed the unwanted emotion away and looked back up at Jongdae interacting with Luhan. He hoped, really hoped, that Jongdae would spare some time for a lonely man like him. Merlin knows, Chanyeol needed a friend… (He ignored the part of his mind that whispered, _“Boy_ -friend.”)

 **� ...** **�**

Jongdae's first lesson was over in a jiffy and he cheerfully waved his class off as they piled out of his greenhouse. The moment they were out of sight, Jongdae waved his wand and all the chairs and tables shrank and hopped into the storage cupboard.

His textbook followed and Jongdae slammed the door shut with relief. Theory was so boring sometimes! He shook his head to clear it and grabbed his dragonhide gloves. He pulled them on with relish and opened the door that led to Greenhouse 2. Jongdae began his rounds and the concept of time faded away as he busied himself with the task of healing his plants.

A loud knock shocked him out of his reverie and he turned his head, confused—what was that? Jongdae stood up and pulled off his gloves, only to throw them onto a nearby table. He brushed down his trousers and frowned at the dirt that clung to them stubbornly. Another knock.

"Come in!" Jongdae called, deciding to ignore his scruffy appearance. "It's open."

Hesitantly, the visitor opened the door and stepped inside. Jongdae smiled welcomingly when he saw that familiar mop of blonde hair. "Jackson!" he called, greeting his student with a wave. "Come and sit down."

Jackson smiled back and apologised for coming so late as he took the seat Jongdae offered. Jongdae smiled reassuringly. "It's not a problem, Jackson. At least this way we don't have to worry about you missing any lessons. If we miss dinner, just make sure to grab a bite from the kitchens. Now, what did you want me to go over?"

Jackson pushed a few large sheets of parchment in front of Jongdae and began to explain the plans he had made. Jongdae listened intently to the eager boy, careful to take note of any advice he could give. By the time Jackson had adequately explained what was before him, half an hour had passed. Jongdae barely registered the passing of time, his mind focused wholly on Jackson's ideas.

He looked over his notes and compared them to Jackson's planning sheets, a quill in his hand as he added more suggestions to his list and erased a few in the process. He cleared his throat and put the quill down. 

Jongdae looked over the sheet again, grimacing at the length. "Right," he began. "This is going to take a while. Don't take offence at the length of this list; half of these points are just things I want to discuss with you," he said reassuringly.

Jackson nodded in understanding and pulled out his own quill and parchment. "Hit me with it," he replied.

Jongdae ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"Your plans are amazing, Jackson," he began. "But you have to remember, all the projects that will be submitted are going to be amazing. I appreciate that you've chosen an extremely rare and dangerous foreign plant to make yourself stand out—it _will_ make you stand out, provided you do it right. However, I fear that you might do something wrong. This is a big task for a young student like you. The plant is poisonous, Jackson, and the antidote would require a Potion Master's skill."

"On top of that, it's an exotic plant—are you sure you're magically skilled enough to cast the environmental spells you've noted down here?" Jongdae gestured to the spells scribbled around each stage of a drawing of the plant's life cycle.

"They're incredibly complex spells and they would affect even the most powerful wizard. They also need to be recast every twelve hours for maximum effectiveness. Furthermore…."

Jackson listened carefully, his quill scratching across parchment as he made the necessary notes. He surveyed them thoughtfully, tapping the quill against his cheek. After a few moments he turned to Jongdae.

"I appreciate the concern, Professor Kim, but I want you to know that I do understand the daring nature of this. However, in order to succeed I have to be daring. I've practiced the environment spells and they are effective. My only issue is that they're not as potent as I'd like. I'm working on that with Professor Flitwick. I'm working with Professor Snape to create the antidote to the poison, just in case, and I already have the means to buy the seedlings. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes," Jackson insisted, responding to each of Jongdae's concerns in turn.

Jongdae sighed. "I know, Jackson. But please, remember to be careful! I'm not going to ask how much the seedlings will cost—that's your concern. Just remember, we do have funding for students if you need it. The antidote is good news; do not begin growing the plant without the antidote. That's an order. You'll also master the charms in no time—I'm not worried about your skill, I was just making sure you'd tried them out. Now, Jackson, before we delve deeper into this, I have to warn you not to let this project take over your stud—”

"I know, Professor. It won't happen. I have a schedule planned," Jackson interrupted.

Jongdae studied Jackson. He trusted the boy, he really did, but he was afraid for him. Jongdae made a mental reminder to ensure that he checked up on Jackson to make sure he was healthy and on track. "Okay," Jongdae replied, and he turned back to the plans and indicated a particular point. "Why the dung of a Libyan Longhorn in particular?"

"I know it's a rarely used fertiliser here in the UK, but this plant originates in North Africa and therefore I wanted to use a fertiliser that would help reconstruct the plant's home environment. I chose the Libyan Longhorn in particular because it's the most affordable," Jackson replied. "I can list the prices I compared if you'd like, sir."

Jongdae shook his head, content with Jackson's explanation. "That's quite all right, Jackson. Just remember to store the dung appropriately. If it comes into contact with any plants of European origin it could cause serious damage."

Jackson made a note of Jongdae's words. "How do you propose I store it, Professor?"

"My preferred option would be to have Dumbledore erect you a temporary greenhouse with maximum security spells to avoid any contamination, but that could be seen as favouritism. Instead, I suggest you apply for your own study space, as most N.E.W.T. students do. 

Once you have it, convert it into an appropriate place for this little baby to grow. It's only a small plant when fully grown, about the size of a bouquet of flowers. The rest of the room can house your tools and supplies. As long as heavy protective spells are cast and a strong password is set, it'll be suitable. If you ask nicely, Professor Lu will be more than willing to cast the protective spells for you."

Jackson made a few more notes and smiled. "Thanks again, sir! This is really helpful."

Jongdae returned his smile. "No problem. Now, what are you going to wear to protect yourself when you…."

Hours later, Jongdae and Jackson were still bent over the plans. With quills in hand they were continuing to finalise the plans when a loud knock resonated through the room. Jongdae jumped and almost upended a bottle of ink.

He and Jackson turned to see Professor Park standing awkwardly in the doorway, his expression implying that he really wanted the ground to eat him up.

Jongdae lips curled up at the corners as he sent Chanyeol a timid grin. Chanyeol smiled awkwardly back. Jackson looked back and forth between the two teachers and grabbed his wand. He muttered a spell and all his belongings packed themselves away.

"Oh, would you look at the time!" Jackson exclaimed. "It's been two hours—dinner's about to start. I should get going, sir. I'll come back and we'll finalise this later. It's pretty much done anyway—bye!"

Jongdae watched Jackson go in confusion. Why was the kid acting so weird?

Chanyeol barely registered Jackson's words as he continued to stare at Jongdae. Jongdae, oblivious to Chanyeol's odd behaviour, turned to his visitor with a smile. "What's up?" Jongdae asked. "I don't get very many famous visitors down here in my humble greenhouse. Can I have an autograph?"

Chanyeol looked sheepish. "Um, I've actually come to apologise," he began.

Jongdae's furrowed his eyebrows and he sent Chanyeol a confused look. "Why? There's no reason for you to apologise."

Chanyeol blushed. "There is! I went by Luhan's office yesterday, like you said, but I didn't go in. You guys looked kind of busy so I just sort of left—I'm sorry, I really am! I didn't mean to be nosy, I promise, but I couldn't help but overhear some of the conversation and now I feel like I've breached your trust and I—"

Jongdae blushed as he realised what Chanyeol had witnessed, but he hurried to dispel Chanyeol's feelings of guilt. "It's okay, it really is! It's our fault for forgetting that you were coming. I should be the one apologising," Jongdae insisted apologetically.

"Let's call it even?" Chanyeol suggested hopefully.

Jongdae nodded enthusiastically. "Let's!"

Chanyeol grinned, his relief palpable. "I thought you'd hate me! Privacy has such a different meaning in Britain and I was kind of scared that you'd get really mad. I am sorry—I know it was a personal conversation. I'm just so glad that it's not that much of a problem for you," he confessed with a relieved grin.

Jongdae stared at that smile, unable to stop himself. Chanyeol was just so, so—what was the word? Positive? Happy? Joyful? His smile alone made Jongdae feel at ease and that was rare—Jongdae only ever reacted to Luhan and Heeyeon like that.

The smiles of other people, especially strangers like Chanyeol, usually felt burdensome because Jongdae, being the awkward man that he was, never knew how to react to them. But Chanyeol was different somehow. He was so easy-going and relaxed and genuinely happy that it was impossible to feel awkward around him for long.

Jongdae suddenly pushed the thoughts aside when Chanyeol's voice brought him back to reality. What was he doing? What kind of weirdo thought about strangers' smiles? "Sorry, what was that?" Jongdae asked, forcing his thoughts away.

"I was just wondering what that plant was," Chanyeol repeated.

Jongdae followed Chanyeol's gaze and turned to face the plant in question. He breathed a sigh of relief when Chanyeol's form was out of sight, grateful for the chance to clear his mind. He stared at the beautiful purple blossom that hung in mid-air, supported by a harness that Jongdae had attached to its pot.

"That's a beauty," Jongdae began with a smile. "It's actually native to India and is used in festivals across the country as a symbol of good luck. And it is—good luck, I mean," he replied, a smile on his face as herbology took precedence in his mind and pushed all the confusing Chanyeol-related thoughts away.

Chanyeol stared, mesmerised by the way the flower's petals seemed to glow a deep purple. He stepped forward, almost as if the flower was pulling him closer, closer, closer until his body was flush against Jongdae's. "Can I touch it?" Chanyeol breathed, oblivious to the fact that he was _right behind_ Jongdae.

Jongdae had to restrain a shudder, his senses assaulted by Chanyeol's voice, his smell, his everything. He swallowed thickly and nodded his assent. "Y-Yeah, of course you can. Just copy me, okay? If you touch the wrong area, it'll go into defence mode," Jongdae replied in an attempt to hide how affected he was by Chanyeol’s proximity.

Jongdae reached into the core of the Ipomoea blossom and ran his fingers across the petal. He held out his palm, his fingers outstretched so that Chanyeol could see the glow that had transferred onto his skin. "Muggles can't see this," Jongdae murmured, "but this is what makes this plant lucky—it's an antidote to most poisons."

Chanyeol reached for the flower and Jongdae's hand automatically shot out to catch Chanyeol's, which had been aiming for the wrong part of the flower. He blushed when he realised what he'd just done and almost dropped Chanyeol’s hand. _Chanyeol was too close_. "Careful," Jongdae whispered as he adjusted Chanyeol's direction with a shaky hand. "Touch from the inside out, it calms it. Plants are alive too, you know."

Chanyeol nodded, an expression of wonder on his face as the flower stained his fingers purple. "Wow," he breathed, staring at the luminous purple powder that clung to him.

"Yeah, I know," Jongdae replied, feigning nonchalance as he turned around to face Chanyeol. Their bodies brushed as he turned and Jongdae squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to regulate his breathing. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked when his voice felt stable enough.

Chanyeol's eyes moved from the flower to Jongdae. "Very," Chanyeol murmured as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down to Jongdae's lips. His fingers reached forward. Jongdae's eyes widened as Chanyeol touched his ch—

Chanyeol moved away from Jongdae, cheeks red as he snapped out of his daze and realised what he'd said and just how close they were. "I think I should have given Herbology a try," he said, his words tumbling out of his mouth as he hurried to draw Jongdae's attention elsewhere. "It's almost as fascinating as studying creatures!" he continued. A nervous laugh left his lips.

"Almost?" Jongdae asked, playing along. He kept his eyes trained on Chanyeol's shoulders—he needed to get himself under control.

Chanyeol held up his hands in surrender, his fingertips a luminescent purple. Jongdae focused on them. "I can't lie—my heart belongs to creatures, not plants." _Or plant lovers_ , Chanyeol almost added.

Jongdae smiled at that. "Your loss!" he teased, lightening up the atmosphere considerably with his childish tone.

Chanyeol laughed, but the sound seemed tinged with bitterness. "Yeah, my loss," he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are appreciated! :)


	8. the rights of man

Jongdae watched his fifth years filing into his classroom and mentally prepared himself for a taxing lesson—Monday mornings were not the ideal time for shoving theory down the throats of confused children.

If he was honest, he would rather avoid complex theory altogether until NEWT level but the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Education strongly disagreed with purely practical OWLs and, thus, Jongdae was forced to have some ‘proper’ content for his OWL students.

Today’s lesson concerned one of the less difficult forms of herbological theory: ethical considerations. This did nothing, however, to raise Jongdae’s hopes. He knew from experience that his students would find it incredibly difficult to comprehend the idea that magical creatures deserved to be treated ethically.

He watched as the children took their seats, each pulling out textbooks, quills and parchment. Yawns sounded across the room as his students rubbed at their eyes, grumbling at the long trek to the Greenhouses from the castle.

Jongdae gave them a minute to gather themselves before he cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention to him. Registration was a brief affair and Jongdae sent the tedious document on its way in a matter of moments.

He turned back to his students and smiled wryly at their expressions: “I suggest you cast awakening charms, kids—this lesson is bound to require your full attention, especially those of you from purely wizarding households, I’ve often found” he advised, waving his wand. A blackboard appeared behind him, the chalk automatically penning the lesson title and the date. 

A few eyes widened at the sight of the radical (by British standards) question penned beneath the title: _Is it ethical to exploit magical creatures for wizarding gain?_

Jongdae surveyed his students and allowed them to familiarise themselves with the question, waiting a few minutes before he began to speak.

“Magical creatures have been exploited in various fields by wand-holders for centuries,” he began, “Some would claim it is the natural birth-right of wizards and witches, and this was the prevailing opinion among the global wizarding intelligentsia until the rise of Grindelwald, who took control of countries across the continent and created his own empire.”

Jongdae paused, rolling his eyes when he saw his students perk up a little at the mention of the infamous wizard—how typical.

“Grindelwald’s actions are often resurrected in popular media outlets as a reminder of the atrocities wizards have committed against the non-magical world. Sadly, the crimes he committed against creatures of the magical world are overlooked,” Jongdae continued.

“The reasons for this vary, but scholarly consensus on the reasons behind this trivialisation lies in the fact that we are an incredibly anthropocentric species,” Jongdae observed his class, glad to see that they were listening attentively.

“We care only for the human: muggles, though they lack magical abilities, are still undoubtedly _human_. They think and feel as we do, and they often bear magical offspring. Thus, the wizarding community is inclined to focus more on these atrocities to the detriment of those committed against the house-elves, for example.”

“Goblins, too, suffered much under Grindelwald’s reign. In fact, you would be hard-pressed to find a thriving magical species that he did not exploit in some form or other.”

“Much of this exploitation, however, was not limited to dark wizards like Grindelwald. The wizarding community as a whole actively participated in wide-scale exploitation as part of daily life. Magical creatures were deemed, after all, no better than slaves,” Jongdae elaborated, watching as his students hurriedly took notes.

He paused, waiting for his students to catch up, and the chalk behind him stilled. The room filled with the sound of quills on parchment and the absence of voices made it difficult to concentrate.

Jongdae sighed and fought to keep his mind focused on his lesson; Chanyeol was leading his last set of first years on an expedition around the grounds and they were due to stop outside the greenhouses soon.

Jongdae had previously enjoyed the interaction that followed, but he was dreading the encounter today; Chanyeol was acting strange and Jongdae was a confused mess of emotions. He couldn’t understand why Chanyeol had been acting so distant over the past wee—

A cough echoed through the greenhouse and Jongdae dragged his attention back to his students, berating himself, knowing that he couldn’t afford to let his feelings hinder his teaching ability.

Jongdae cleared his throat and continued, keeping his thoughts strictly centred on the task at hand.

“The aftermath of Grindelwald’s defeat and the consequent re-definition of war-crimes led to the development of new schools of thought, many of whom believed that all living creatures deserved to be treated humanely. A shift in thought ensued and it became the aim of the magical community to attempt to establish rights for magical creatures.”

“Other countries, namely Asian countries such as South Korea, China and India, along with a fair amount of European and African countries have managed to develop these significantly. Sadly, Britain is not amongst them. Our Care of Magical Creatures Professors can attest to the lack of improvement in British law and the inferior status awarded to even the most intelligent of magical creatures.”

Jongdae paused again, waiting a few moments before continuing once more.

“The significance of this to Herbology may be lost on you, but I can assure you that it is very much relevant.”

“Herbologists use a variety of magical creatures in order to maintain conditions for magical plants, we use the blood and faeces of creatures as fertiliser and, surprising though it may seem, many of our plants are intelligent enough to be deemed creatures in their own right.”

“Thus, this debate is central to the state of Herbology today and it is vital that you understand the issues it poses, irrespective of where your opinion lies in the debate itself.”

Jongdae waved his wand again and the chalk fell to its post with a thud, lifeless once more. “Any questions?” he asked, surveying the expressions of his students.

A student raised her hand and Jongdae smiled in response, motioning for her to continue.

“Professor,” Circe Greengrass began, “If this debate is a global one, and many wizarding communities have adjusted their approach to magical creatures, then why haven’t we changed our laws?”

Jongdae nodded and took a moment to absorb the question before he responded: “The answer to that is long and heavily wrought with politics of various kinds. One of the major aspects of British society that limited our approach to the creatures around us, however, is the _ancien régime_.”

Jongdae paused a minute, letting that sink in before carrying on.

“Bluntly put, it was the elitist approach that Pure-blood society maintained throughout the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. This approach limited any possible improvement to the regulations applied to magical creatures, even after Grindelwald’s massacres and the socio-political aftermath of it.”

“While it wasn’t the only reason by far, it’s definitely one that played a large role. It’s important to note, though, that over the last century we’ve made progress in the right direction, limited though it may be.”

Jongdae waited for his students to take note of his answer before moving onto the next question.

“Yes, Emrys?” Jongdae asked.

“Professor Kim, sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but aren’t magical creatures uncontrollable and wild? Isn’t it safer they’re kept under control? I’ve always believed their lesser intelligence to be a sign of their requiring our harsh laws, sir.”

Jongdae frowned, knowing where this attitude stemmed from. Merlin, he would have been victim to it if not for Han.

Jongdae thought hard about this answer, his mouth drying as he recalled the encounter he and Chanyeol had with the centaur populace earlier that month. Jongdae swallowed thickly at the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake him at the recollection of the memory and turned back to Emrys.

“It’s a lot more complicated than it seems, and there is no black and white answer. Magical creatures, for one, cannot be lumped into one mass—the term refers to hundreds, even thousands, of species, each with its own level of intelligence and behaviours,” Jongdae began, the chalk behind him coming to life once more to note his answers on the board as he articulated them.

And so the lesson continued, the two hour session filled with the disseminating of ideas that, by British standards, were incredibly controversial.

Jongdae’s shoulders slumped in relief when the bell sounded, notifying his students that break had begun. He dismissed his class, waiting patiently for the last group of friends to exit the greenhouse before he let his guard down.

Merlin, he was never letting anyone else near his plants over the summer.

Hell, he’d beg the headmaster for apparition permissions so that he could tend to his plants if required, but no-one else was touching his babies.

He would rather die than suffer this sort of schedule mix-up again; it was far too early for the kids to be studying theory. Theory was always best taught just before exam period! This was too much, honestly. He wasn’t ready for such taxing sessions yet, his mind had only just adjusted to the Hogwarts routine, for boggarts’ sake.

Jongdae continued his train of thought and was so caught up in bemoaning his plight that he almost missed the sound of the greenhouse door creaking open. _Almost_.

Jongdae’s head snapped up, his ‘calm and collected’ teaching-mask automatically slipping into place as he prepared for a student enquiry of some sort.

“Jongdae-ssi?” a voice called.

Jongdae’s eyes widened, surprise evident on his features as he registered who the owner of the voice was.

“Chanyeol-ah?” he asked, wincing as he let the familiar name slip by his lips. Chanyeol use of formal language dictated that Jongdae should be using the same. He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth and hoping that Chanyeol wouldn’t take offence.

Chanyeol, thankfully, seemed to relax a little at Jongdae’s gesture of familiarity.

“Jongdae-ah,” Chanyeol responded, “I wanted to apologise. My research schedule’s much more hectic than I’d anticipated and I can’t promise that I’ll be able to escort you to the mooncalf enclosure and back when you need me to.”

Jongdae frowned at Chanyeol’ careful speech, noticing the distance Chanyeol was putting between them—Chanyeol was the one who’d insisted they act more friendly towards each other and yet, he seemed to be disregarding his own suggestion.

Jongdae fought to rein his emotions in, knowing there was no use in acting hurt; people didn’t attribute the same importance to friendship as he did. Jongdae was a selective man, he made friends with few, and kept even fewer. Chanyeol probably didn’t share his sentiments.

He closed his eyes momentarily, gathering his mind before schooling his features into a reassuring expression.

“It’s fine, Chanyeol, don’t worry about it!” he insisted cheerily, using his usual informal tone.

He refused to show that he’d noticed anything strange about Chanyeol’s demeanour. Doing so would mean widening this gap even further and, in all honesty, Jongdae rather liked Chanyeol’s company.

He resolved to interrogate Luhan about the situation, knowing that Han was particularly good at figuring out why people behaved the way they did (his penchant for gossip certainly helped).

Chanyeol smiled weakly in response, as if Jongdae’s response caused him pain and Jongdae frowned.

HIs eyebrows furrowed together as Chanyeol moved closer, somehow still maintaining a measured distance between their bodies. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor hesitatingly reached for Jongdae’s palm and pressed a key into it, gently releasing Jongdae’s hand as soon as he’d done so.

Jongdae looked at the key in confusion, looking up when Chanyeol began to speak.

“It’s a key to the enclosure,” he explained, “It’s charmed to let its bearer through the wards. I arranged for an engraving to be made in the gate. Press the key into it and the wards will allow you to pass. They’ll automatically reset after you enter, so you’ll need to use the key again when exiting.”

Jongdae tightened his hand around the key, an odd mix of emotions filling him in response to Chanyeol’s conflicting behaviour.

He spoke like Jongdae was a stranger, only to cancel the latter behaviour out with the tenderness of his touch. He’d held Jongdae’s hand like it was made of glass but his voice was so incredibly distant, so unlike what he was used to.

Jongdae wanted to voice his confusion, he wanted to make Chanyeol explain, but he didn’t. Instead he murmured a polite “Thank you,” and stepped back, giving Chanyeol the all-clear to leave.

Chanyeol didn’t leave.

He looked at Jongdae, eyes boring holes into Jongdae’s with the intensity of his gaze. Jongdae squirmed uncomfortably, a blush staining his skin red as he broke away from Chanyeol’s eyes.

Chanyeol cleared his throat and the moment passed, the awkwardness between them clearing slightly. Chanyeol wet his lips, his eyes flickering down to Jongdae’s as he began to say something only to stop himself midway.

He paused for a moment, his body in that awkward liminal stage between coming and going before he decided on the latter option.

He bowed quickly and muttered an “I’ll leave first” before he turned and exited swiftly, leaving a very confused herbology professor in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the comments, guys! they're really keeping me going :D 
> 
> if you have any more feedback, hmu! 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this bay as much as I am :)


	9. confessions of an english school-teacher, or perhaps not quite

Things didn’t get better for Jongdae after that incident with Chanyeol... Okay, maybe he was exaggerating a tad there; some things _did_ get better: teaching was getting easier for both students and teachers, who were slipping back into their term-time routines. But things with Chanyeol were _not_ getting better.

In fact, their once blooming friendship now resembled a strained, terse acquaintance and Jongdae was convinced that Chanyeol was avoiding him. He no longer dropped by after lessons, he excused himself from accompanying Jongdae on his journeys to the enclosure, and he all but ignored Jongdae’s existence during meal-times.

If it wasn’t for the unreadable glances he sometimes caught Chanyeol sending his way, Jongdae would’ve been convinced that Chanyeol had developed a sudden inability to stand Jongdae’s presence. As things stood, however, Jongdae was just incredibly confused.

After a week of moping about Chanyeol’s cryptic behaviour, Luhan grew sick of the constant onslaught of negative emotions flooding through the bond and he all but dragged a protesting Jongdae to his quarters after dinner in order to get to the bottom of the matter.

Neither man noticed the watchful eyes of another member of staff following their forms out of the hall, both too occupied with dealing with one another.

Someone did notice the gaze however, and its bearer received a sympathetic pat on the back from Hogwarts’ Professor of Ancient Runes. “Better luck next time, eh?” the man comforted, oblivious to Chanyeol’s warring state of mind.

Chanyeol nodded mutely, studying the mushy remains of today’s pie on his plate as he contemplated what he was going to do. There was the easy option (the one he wanted to take) and the difficult option.

With one last defeated look at his meal, Chanyeol pushed his chair back and made his way out of the hall, hoping that the decision he had made was the right one.

Meanwhile, Luhan had managed to shepherd Jongdae’s reluctant form into his quarters. Jongdae glared at Luhan defensively as Luhan slammed the door shut and turned to face him.  
  
“I’m fine,” Jongdae growled in response to Luhan’s raised eyebrow.

Luhan didn’t merit that with a response, opting instead to raise his eyebrow even higher.

Jongdae met Luhan’s eyes defiantly in a vain attempt to validate his claims of emotional stability. If asked about this later, Jongdae would adamantly insist that he lasted against Luhan’s stare for more than a minute.

In reality, however, Jongdae managed to remain stoic for all of 30 seconds before Luhan’s knowing look broke past his defences. Jongdae felt something break inside him and he turned away so Luhan wouldn’t see his defeated expression.

Luhan released a soft sigh and moments later, Jongdae was enveloped in Luhan’s soft embrace. Luhan’s arms were wrapped around Jongdae’s waist, his back flush against Jongdae’s and Jongdae felt himself automatically melting into the warmth of his bondmate’s body.

Luhan rested his chin on Jongdae’s shoulder and held him close for a few moments. Once Jongdae had calmed down, though, Luhan released him and manoeuvred Jongdae’s body so that it was facing his.

“Jongdae-ah,” Luhan murmured, “You know I can feel what you’re feeling, right? There’s no need to try and hide your emotions from me. Your emotions are mine, especially when you’re feeling this distressed. I swear, Jongdae, you’re feeling worse than I did when Heeyeon rejected my advances back in our first year of Uni, before you explained everything to her—and that’s saying something!”

Jongdae winced at the comparison, “Shut up! I’m not that bad. I’m just a little confused, that’s all.”

“It’s Chanyeol,” Luhan stated, his tone brokering no argument.

Jongdae nodded miserably. “He’s sending me terribly mixed signals and I’m such a mess and—wait, how did you know?”

Luhan rolled his eyes.

“Kim Jongdae, how blind do you think I am? You’ve been completely enthralled by him ever since he joined Hogwarts, for Morgana’s sake! And don’t think I haven’t noticed those longing-filled glances you’ve been shooting each other for weeks! The entire staff table is alive with rumours—they’re betting on how long it’ll be before you ditch me for him. Honestly, Jongdae-ah, do you live under a rock?”

Jongdae’s eyes widened, “Wait, people think we’re dating? Great Godric, what about Heeyeon?”

Jongdae’s narrowed his eyes when Luhan burst into laughter. “Of all the things to register, you chose that,” he mused, looking fondly at Jongdae.

Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows, “What are you on about, Han? You’re confusing the hell out of me.”

Luhan rested his hands on his mate’s hips and surveyed his face thoughtfully before responding. “You really do like him, don’t you?” he murmured.

Jongdae flushed and looked away, nodding mutely.

“Have you tried talking to him about it? You can’t run from your feelings forever, Chen-Chen.”

Jongdae felt irritation spark in his chest at Luhan’s words and he glared at the floor before biting out a bitter response.

“I’d talk to him if the guy would bloody acknowledge my existence. The blasted idiot almost kissed me and then decided I wasn’t worth the time of day! I’m torn between wanting to throttle him and wanting to beg him for an explanation and it’s simultaneously terrifying and disgusting me because I’m acting so pathetic—I mean, I hardly know the guy.

I’m a confused, emotional mess and I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to him but I am and it really bloody hurts that, after finally opening up to someone after—after _him_ , it gets thrown back in my face,” Jongdae ranted, angrily swiping at his burning eyes before any tears fell because, goddamnit, he was _not_ going to cry.

Luhan’s eyebrows drew together in confusion as he absorbed Jongdae’s words.

He reached out, tilting Jongdae’s head up and responding carefully, as if confronting a cornered animal.

“Jongdae-ah, you have to know that Chanyeol is as hung up on you as you are on him. He looks at you in the same way you look at your plants. In fact, I’m pretty sure he could be persuaded to care for you more than his creatures, if given the opportunity. And I know that you could feel the same way, I—“

“Luhan, I—“

“No. Listen to me, Jongdae. Whether you believe me or not, you have to admit that you guys really need to talk. Both of you are miserable, and it’s obviously a result of each other. Whether good or bad, you need to know where you stand, or you’ll be feeling like this for a _very_ long time; I speak from experience, Jongdae-ah.” Luhan insisted.

Jongdae bit his lip, swallowing thickly, and nodded. “I know, I know. I’m just—I’m scared, y’know? I feel like he’s going to reject me and I’ll have opened up to him for no reason.”

Luhan smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry, my little star, something tells me rejecting you will be the last thing on his mind.”

Jongdae snorted disbelievingly, but accepted the embrace Luhan offered anyway. Luhan ran his fingers through Jongdae’s hair, smiling fondly when Jongdae predictably turned into mush.

Jongdae clung to Luhan as he always did, seeking the comfort he knew his bondmate would provide. It made him feel horribly parasitical at times, until he reminded himself that Luhan acted in the same way, albeit more sporadically than Jongdae.

Luhan was, after all, much more emotionally stable than he was. Jongdae frowned at his own emotional incompetence, pushing his thoughts away and burrowing his face into Han’s neck.

Han held him tighter and pressed a light kiss to Jongdae’s hair. “It’ll be okay, Jongdae-ah.”

Jongdae nodded mutely, trying to convince himself of the truth of Han’s words. He closed his eyes and let the soothing ambience calm his rampant thoughts, only to jolt right out of the calm head-space he’d created in response to a harsh sounding knock at the door.

“Come in,” Han called out. Jongdae attempted to pull free of his embrace but Han held him tighter, “It’s alright, Jongdae, it won’t be a student. And the teachers won’t bat an eyelash.”

The door opened to reveal an incredibly nervous looking Park Chanyeol. Jongdae gripped Luhan’s waist tightly as Chanyeol took in their connected forms.

Chanyeol seemed less and less inclined to enter the room; he seemed on the verge of fleeing their company entirely.

Luhan, sensing the fragility of the situation, beckoned Chanyeol in and Chanyeol obliged, albeit reluctantly. Jongdae’s face fell. Chanyeol probably came for Luhan and was instead met with his pathetic self.

Chanyeol looked at the floor awkwardly and Luhan muttered something under his breath before releasing Jongdae. He stood and summoned a chair for Chanyeol before busying himself with pleasantries, as Jongdae liked to call them.

Chanyeol declined Han’s offer for tea, for hot chocolate, for coffee, all the while sitting uncomfortably on his chair.

“I- I’m okay, really, I just wanted to talk to you guys. I owe you an apology, both of you, and I hope you’ll still consider keeping my company after this.”

Luhan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked to Jongdae, who shrugged, indicating that he was clueless too.

“I- aish, this is awkward,” Chanyeol began, blushing as he stumbled over his words.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. I had suspected that, perhaps, the two of you were closer than you let on, but I refrained from letting it act as the deterrent it should. I’m sorry for making undue advances on Jongdae, I can assure you, it wasn’t intentional.

I’d been trying my hardest to refrain from acting on my desires, but, ah, Jongdae seems adept at shattering all attempts I have at control. He renders my eloquence, my control and my mind utterly useless and I- I apologise for my actions.”

Chanyeol refrained from meeting their eyes, choosing instead to study his feet as he concluded his apology.

Jongdae’s eyes had been growing wider and wider with each word Chanyeol uttered and he looked at Luhan, his mind whirling with all the information it had absorbed. Chanyeol liked him? He _desired_ him?

A heated blush stained Jongdae’s skin as he thought of the implications of the term. He was so caught up in his musings that he forgot that Chanyeol was _apologising_ , not confessing.

Luhan noticed Jongdae’s distraction and rolled his eyes. “Chanyeol-ah, Jongdae and I are, surprisingly, _not_ in a relationship. In fact, we’re not even in an almost-relationship. I could never court this idiot because, frankly, I don’t swing that way and I have—”

“And he has a stunning girlfriend who’s totally out of his league, if I do say so myself.” Jongdae finished smugly.

Luhan glared, “Yah, Kim Jongdae, no one asked for your opinion.”

Jongdae opened his mouth to retort when Chanyeol interrupted, sounding completely baffled. “Wait, you’re _not_ together? So Jongdae...” he trailed off, blushing at the realisation that he’d confessed his feelings so brashly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i truly appreciate all the comments, guys! I look forward to them an awful lot :D
> 
> so... here's part of the long awaited revelation, although i do believe the more awaited half will take place in the second chapter (i would apologise for keeping you waiting, but it's actually quite fun)
> 
> on a completely random note, i would like to ask--what is your favourite hp film/book?
> 
> also, this bitch just turned 22 *peace sign* and yes, i alternated between singing taylor swift's 22/somi's birthday all day (i have no shame)... it was a pretty decent lockdown party (my best friends gifted me with bangtan's map of the soul 7, alongside various 'postcolonial' classics which i cannot wait to read!). speaking of which, how are y'all feeling while under lockdown? feel free to vent down below!


	10. the importance of being earnest

Chanyeol strode out of the hall with determination, the back of his neck flushing at the stares his abrupt departure garnered. He ignored the humiliation that bubbled to the surface as those very same eyes followed him, embarrassment choking his airways— _he had to do this_.

Chanyeol swallowed past the fiery lump in his throat and kept his eyes trained on Jongdae’s retreating form, following the teacher and his partner. He would tell them the truth about this matter; it was the right thing to do. There was, quite frankly, no other way now that he understood how deep his _infatuation_ seemed to run.

The stone corridors were empty; Chanyeol kept his steps light, not wanting his footsteps to give his presence away. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in the middle of the corridor. He thought his English colleagues were joking when they claimed that everything had eyes in Hogwarts. It wasn’t until he’d arrived and seen the paintings, ghosts and that poltergeist-figure that he began to truly understand. Each magical institution had a life of its own, but Hogwarts was unlike anything he’d ever encountered.

If the ghosts saw anything the news would spread through the castle like absolute wildfire, not to mention the scandal would be printed in the _Daily Prophet_. He could picture that blasted Skeeter woman’s headline now: _Notoriously Controversial Researcher Violently Erupts Like the Creatures He So Desperately Supports_. Chanyeol shuddered—that most certainly would not do. He had to behave.

It was a good thing that the torches here were so dim, Chanyeol thought as he followed the pair. If not for that small blessing, he was sure they’d have noticed him by now.

He watched as the flames danced across the stone walls, only to flinch when he registered the way it defined the shadow of Luhan’s arm as it snaked its way around Jongdae’s waist. Luhan’s hand curled to match the soft curve of Jongdae’s hip comfortably. The man in question melted into his partner’s embrace, his body moulding into Luhan’s side as they walked and—

 _Oh god_ , Chanyeol thought, wincing in shame at the all-too-familiar feeling of envy that pierced his heart. _I can’t do this_.

Jongdae looked so at ease in his partner’s arms, even when he was annoyed. Chanyeol’s lips curled into a slight, bittersweet smile at the indignance in Jongdae’s expression when Luhan opened the door to his study and dragged him inside. It was an emotion Chanyeol found incredibly endearing on him.

Jongdae wasn’t the kind of guy to get irritated easily—his plants were often the stimulants for such emotions and watching him get so heated about the creatures he tended to made Chanyeol so incredibly _fond_. How was he to resist a man whose love for plants rivalled his passion for magical creatures? Jongdae fought for his plants with a fiery intensity that Chanyeol could never have withstood.

Chanyeol glanced bitterly at the tapestry that covered Luhan’s office. It fluttered slightly, almost as if encouraging him to come closer (it probably _was_ , he sighed, knowing this castle and the magic that flowed through its veins—he swore everything was alive in this building, even the bloody stone).

He swallowed and moved forward, hesitating at the tapestry itself. Raising his hand, Chanyeol began to move it aside only to find that he couldn’t quite bring himself to release the dense, heavy fabric once his fingers had closed around it.

He clenched his fingers around the rough fabric, pressing his forehead against it briefly and swallowing thickly— _he’s not yours. You can’t go on like this,_ Chanyeol reminded himself. _It’s completely against every code of decency. You have to apologise and leave well enough alone._

It wouldn’t do to simply avoid Jongdae. An apology was (unfortunately) very much necessary. Much to his chagrin, Luhan had noticed his longing glances even if Jongdae seemed oblivious. The Defence professor had yet to reprimand him for his misconduct, but that didn’t mean that Chanyeol was exempt from offering his sincere apologies.

In all honesty, as much as it pained Chanyeol to admit, Luhan’s lack of an explosive emotional response wasn’t helping matters at all. He'd hoped Luhan would flare up in anger once Chanyeol realised that Jongdae would do no such thing. At least that would have been a physical reminder and incentive to _let Jongdae go_. But no, it almost seemed like Luhan found Chanyeol _amusing_.

Chanyeol would have been irked by the fact that he seemed to pose _no threat_ at all to the couple but anyone who saw those two together knew that they were in a league of their own.

Both wizards were exceptionally handsome, talented and powerful. And to top it all off, they shared a bond that was unlike anything Chanyeol had ever seen. He’d known it was a lost cause the minute he’d seen the two of them interact and it was his own darn fault that he couldn’t control his emotions.

Chanyeol released the coarse fabric slowly, expelling a breath of air he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. His hands lingered on the last barrier between him and the couple as they slid downwards before tightening resolutely at his sides. He had to explain himself before the guilt consumed him; he could barely look Jongdae or Luhan in the eye as it stood.

What made it worse was that the strange situation he’d landed himself in had become fodder for staff and student gossip sessions. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to acknowledge his failings himself, he now had to live with the knowledge that _everyone_ knew. He sighed in defeat, knowing it was time to put a stop to all of this.

He mumbled the necessary revealing spell, stuffing his wand back into is robes before lifting his hand to knock on the door. Chanyeol was ashamed to admit that the first knock could barely class as a scraping of knuckles against wood. With a determined breath he knocked once more, this time more firmly.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by the view that greeted him when he opened the door and yet there he was, unable to take his eyes off the pair. A searing pain stabbed at his chest when he noted how their bodies were connected. He couldn’t even discern where one wizard’s robes began and the other’s ended.

Luhan had him fixed in an expectant look but Jongdae… Jongdae was studiously avoiding his eyes. He looked like he wanted the doors of Tartarus to open and swallow him whole, down into the underworld. Chanyeol winced at the knowledge that Luhan had probably told him about Chanyeol’s blatant pining—that, if nothing else, would have resulted in the man resolutely refusing to look at him.

He wouldn’t be able to recall what he said next if you forced him to. All he knew was that he had to rectify whatever it was that made Jongdae look so ill at ease while in his presence. While he very much wished he could have something more with the wizard, the last thing Chanyeol wanted was to lose a perfectly good friendship. Jongdae was far too valuable a companion, and something told him that Luhan would be the same. Chanyeol’s mouth was moving before he could think to stop it.

He must have said something right because Jongdae’s head snapped up while he was rambling and those stunning eyes were trained on Chanyeol’s.

And then Jongdae’s expression shifted and he was beaming. His lips curved into the most breathtakingly beautiful smile and _oh god_ , Chanyeol thought, _I’m completely whipped for him_.

Luhan, on the other hand, was looking increasingly more incredulous. Chanyeol winced, mentally readying himself for a verbal lashing only to be completely shocked when Luhan spoke up, refuting everything he’d thought. They _weren’t_ in a relationship?

 **� ...** **�**

Elation sure was a nice feeling, Jongdae thought. Much, much nicer than abject misery. He may be exaggerating slightly but _Merlin_ , this last month had been torture. Park Chanyeol was far too enticing for his own good.

Everything the man did was somehow incredibly adorable, far too noble or painfully sexy. There was absolutely _no_ in-between and Jongdae was tired (he was pretty sure Luhan was sick of the flashes of desire that kept filtering down the link too, but whatever). Far too often, Jongdae had found himself unexpectedly confronted with how attractive the man was in everything he did.

There was one specific moment which had burned itself into his eyelids, practically searing into skin. Jongdae had been in Greenhouse number 2 tending to a particularly stubborn (read: sentient) variant of the the Alihotsy family.

The poor thing had been flailing in distress because it had been on the receiving end of an unexpected growth spurt. Its roots had lengthened by inches overnight and, because the container was a little on the small side, they’d ended up growing inwards and twining together. Jongdae _had_ charmed the pot to grow with the poor thing, but the flash growth was too much for the relatively simple enchantment he’d administered, and it froze up.

Jongdae had petrified the poor baby and was in the process of untangling each root with an incredibly meticulous extraction charm when his wards pinged, notifying him of an unexpected presence on the outskirts of his Greenhouses. 

It was Chanyeol. The man was making his way towards the forest, his robes exchanged for less formal clothing (it _was_ a Saturday). He was bearing what seemed to be an inordinately large chunk of wood on his shoulders and Jongdae couldn’t help but note how his muscles were practically bulging beneath the weight.

Chanyeol was flushed from exertion, sweat running down his face and back, dampening the clothing he wore. It was sticking to his chest and _sweet_ _Morgana_ , those abs had to be illegal. It was then that Jongdae was hit with the knowledge that Chanyeol _worked out_ _in the muggle fashion_.

Most wizards used magic for heavy lifting (or _any_ form of lifting) and thus, wizards weren’t often physically powerful—it hardly mattered in the wizarding world. Luhan was, but that didn’t quite count—the man didn’t _look_ it, not did he work for it. Chanyeol clearly looked powerful, however, and the sheer strength he was displaying was… arousing.

Jongdae felt his lower regions stir at the thought of the power in those arms; hell, the man could easily throw him up against a wa—Jongdae flushed bright red when he realised where that train of thought had been heading, but it was no use. His eyes were glued to the other man’s body and his mind frankly refused to cooperate.

It wasn’t until Jongdae forced his eyes away from Chanyeol’s body that he understood what the professor was carrying. It was no chunk of wood. Chanyeol was carrying a _living thing_. The professor made his way to the edge of the forbidden forest, kneeling slowly so as not to injure himself. He carefully lowered the creature to the floor, his shoulders straining against taut fabric, and Jongdae saw a flash of white—a bandage, he’d realised afterwards—before the professor stepped back.

A centaur moved forward out of the trees, following each of the wizard's steps backwards. Chanyeol raised his arms in surrender as the creature looked down. It took a few moments of tension before the centaur inclined his head in a regal bow. Chanyeol lowered his hands then, bowing in what seemed to be a ritualistic fashion.

The centaur nodded in acknowledgement, murmuring something in response before reaching into his quiver, pulling something out and handing it to Chanyeol with a ceremonial flourish. Chanyeol took a step forward, holding onto one end of his—his _wand_? Jongdae noted in shock. _That’s why he was carrying the child instead of levitating it, oh Merlin,_ he thought, wincing as sparks shot forth and both beings bent forward over the wand. A green mist wound its way, snakelike, around their joined arms, glimmering in the sunlight. It covered both arms to the elbows, flashing a bright emerald before vanishing. The centaur released his end of the wand after a moment before kneeling to lift the injured youngling. He slung the child onto his back, nodded to Chanyeol once more and melted back into the forest.

Chanyeol waited a few seconds before dropping onto his knees once more, exhaustion clouding his features. The man leaned back and Jongdae watched as those broad shoulders shook while he caught the breath he’d been struggling to hold. His knees were spread wide, his head tilted back and Jongdae—he _wanted_. The wizard looked so delectable, spread across the forest floor like that. If Jongdae was there, he’d…

 _Oh blasted boggarts, what was he thinking?_ The shame enveloped him; the man had been _helping a creature_ and Jongdae was _horny_. With a determined sigh, the professor willed his lust away, ignoring the pulsing ache between his legs in favour of the plant before him. He absolutely _refused_ to succumb to lust when the subject of it had done such a noble thing.

Even now, Chanyeol somehow managed to capture Jongdae’s attention instantaneously. The firelight was flickering across the man’s face, highlighting the alluring blush that painted his cheeks and, oh, Jongdae was so weak. He was torn between wanting to either gently caress those cheeks or kiss the poor man senseless.

The Herbology professor was pulled out of his thoughts by a loud snort. Amusement filtered through the link and Jongdae narrowed his eyes, reaching over to pinch Luhan’s side lightly in response.

It did nothing to filter Luhan’s mirth, not that Jongdae was surprised. Luhan always did love having fun at Jongdae’s expense, brat that he was.

It would have annoyed him if Jongdae didn’t love the man so much. There was an answering warmth in the link at that emotion and Jongdae smiled, knowing his partner understood that he wasn’t _really_ annoyed at him.

He turned to face Chanyeol with a bright smile, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long while. Jongdae started a little when he realised that Chanyeol’s attention was already entirely focused on him. The Care of Magical Creatures professor looked at him, his gaze so intense that Jongdae couldn’t help but flush beneath it.

“Uh, Prof-“ he began, only to blush profusely and stop abruptly when he realised what he’d said. _Oh holy Morgana, please hex me into oblivion_ , he thought, wincing mentally and lamenting the loss of the final shreds of his dignity.

Luhan snorted again and Jongdae dug an elbow into his side in retaliation.

“Shut up!” he whined in embarrassment, “this is already hard enough!”

Luhan smirked, his amusement was still apparent, but he did as his bondmate asked. With yet another put-upon sigh, Jongdae turned back to Chanyeol, grimacing at the knowledge that he’d flushed an unattractive shade of beet red.

“Chanyeol, I meant Chanyeol,” he continued ignoring Luhan’s teasing _‘Sure you did’_.

“Do you want to, maybe, go for a walk? I know some really cool spots in the castle?” Jongdae offered, a little hesitantly. _Please say yes_ , he prayed.

Chanyeol’s responded with a relieved smile, his ears perking up in the _cutest_ way. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 _Oh thank the heavens_ , Jongdae thought, flashing a small smile Chanyeol’s way. He turned and gave Luhan a quick hug. His bondmate returned it, automatically sliding his arms up Jongdae’s back to give him a brief, supportive squeeze.

“Good luck,” Luhan murmured quietly in Jongdae’s ear, all traces of teasing gone.

Jongdae pressed a light kiss to Luhan’s shirt in response, right over his heart, before stepping away and taking Chanyeol’s arm. He pulled lightly, waving at Luhan as he led the Magical Creatures professor out of Luhan’s office and into the corridor.

Chanyeol’s tense body relaxed the moment they left Luhan’s office and Jongdae snickered, looking up at him. “Luhan’s really not that scary, you know,” he teased.

Chanyeol winced, his nose scrunching up adorably. “Yeah, that’s what _you_ think. I’ve been terrified he was going to hex my balls off for the entire month because of the way I’ve been looking at you.”

Jongdae raised his eyebrow, curious. “And what look would that have been?” he asked, unable to resist slipping his hand down Chanyeol’s arm to grasp his hand.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the sensation, staring at their connected hands. “Um, well—” Chanyeol stuttered.

Jongdae couldn’t help but laugh at that; it was incredibly endearing. He wanted to lean up and kiss Chanyeol, but he was pretty sure that a conversation was in order.

He chose instead to squeeze Chanyeol’s hand. Chanyeol returned the gesture before firmly threading his fingers through Jongdae’s own. Jongdae would swear that his insides melted in response; he hadn’t realised quite how much he missed this kind of intimacy.

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, Jongdae turned, using their hands as a means to lead Chanyeol down the second-floor corridor. Chanyeol followed willingly, his large form a comforting weight behind Jongdae.

It was late in the evening and most students were heading off to their common rooms after dinner. Apart from the odd prefect patrolling the floors (and a handful of mischievous students that he could no doubt name with his eyes closed), the castle’s corridors were empty. The second floor was silent, the flickering torches and snoring paintings the only sounds that could be heard.

 _Perfect_ , Jongdae thought.

He was taking Chanyeol to a place that could easily be classed up there with some of Hogwarts’ greatest mysteries. It was a secret that had been entrusted upon him entirely by accident—or at least he thought that was the case, but who knew when Lord Wilde was involved—and yet it was a secret all the same. He intended to keep it that way, having shown it to Luhan alone (and now Chanyeol).

Jongdae stopped walking when he saw the stretch of wall he’d been searching for. At first, it had seemed to him like an innocuous part of the wall. It was only after walking past it repeatedly whenever he visited Han’s office that Jongdae realised something was _off_ about it.

Hogwarts was, first and foremost, a castle. It had an infinite amount of charms and wards mixed into its walls and it was practically alive, but it was _still_ a castle.

That meant that (excepting harmful or toxic plants that would, in theory, be prevented from growing due to the wards—unless these were tweaked by the acting headmaster), the walls were often home to various species of domestic plants native to these parts of the UK.

Along the entire second floor corridor, a singularly unremarkable plant grew. It was a very dull root that had taken hold of the walls and roped its way outwards along the passageway. Jongdae kept it tamed whenever he visited, ensuring it didn’t expand further and move into classrooms and offices.

What was interesting about this plant, however, was that it didn’t just grow _along_ the walls. It grew _out_ of them. Out of this particular spot, to be precise.

Jongdae had spent many an evening examining the wall in confusion, unable to understand how a plant could grow _out_ of a wall. Luhan had found his interest amusing but ultimately left him to his devices. He knew never to come in between Jongdae and plants of any kind.

Jongdae had used various charms and spells, trying to determine exactly what was going on. Eventually, he gave in and kicked the wall in sheer frustration, only to start when he’d heard a derisive laugh.

It came from the painting that overlooked the wall. A painting of Lord Wilde, the infamous and very much eccentric professor of herbology.

The man had peered at him over the sunflowers that crowded his frame. “It is as I have always said,” the peculiar figure began grandiosely, “nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.”

The man sent a scathing look Jongdae’s way. “Has it never occurred to you, young man, that the mystery you so seek to unravel lies _beyond_ the wall, not within it?” Lord Wilde then turned and glanced purposefully at the wall behind him, which held a stone archway.

Jongdae had stared at him and the wall in confusion before it clicked in his mind.

He whirled back to the face the wall, heart almost beating out of his chest as he studied it. The sunflowers that had appeared in Lord Wilde’s painting were organised in an arch. Perhaps if he…

Jongdae tapped his wand along the stone that made Wilde’s arch and, lo and behold, the wall melted away to reveal the very same arch. The roots from the plant led inwards up a staircase that twisted round and round in spiral form.

Lord Wilde coughed purposefully and Jongdae turned to face him, bowing and thanking him profusely. The Lord studied his face, flashing him a strangely bittersweet smile after a few moments. “Well,” he mused, “I always was weak in the face of beauty.”

At Jongdae’s questioning look, the man laughed. He looked years younger when he did that.

“What lives in that chamber is of my doing and I swore to myself not to tell a soul of its existence. It was why I insisted that I be placed here after my demise, so that I alone could guard the work of my youth. Alas, all it took was a face as enchanting as thine and I crumbled.”

He paused for a moment, before winking at Jongdae theatrically. “Well, that and your keen observation skills—you made it apparent weeks ago that you have a talent for the herbological.”

“Take care of her for me,” he added after another moment’s thought, “she’s far too beautiful to waste away.”

And with those confusing words, Lord Wilde had vanished up his own archway.

Jongdae remembered the awe he’d felt when he went up those stairs and saw what Oscar had hidden behind those walls; it truly was a thing of beauty. Jongdae knew Chanyeol would love it—the man had a heart that was very similar to Jongdae’s own.

Looking over his shoulder, Jongdae smiled at Chanyeol. The professor had bumped into his back due to the abruptness of Jongdae’s halt and was looking at him in expectation. “Uh, Jongdae?” he asked, curious.

With a wink, Jongdae pulled out his wand and tapped the stones, trying his best not to get distracted by how close Chanyeol was. _The man was pressed against his back, for boggart’s sake._ He released a mental sigh of relief when the spells that guarded the arch melted away. Chanyeol inhaled sharply in surprise, his other arm reaching around Jongdae to examine the revealed entrance.

The action moved him even closer to Jongdae, the warmth of his body seeping into Jongdae’s own and—“Come,” Jongdae practically pleaded, pulling away from the man before he did something untoward. He led Chanyeol through the archway and up the stone steps, taking care to ensure that the other wizard didn’t trip on the roots that were growing along the walls and the floor.

Chanyeol pulled out his wand and began to cast a “lumos” but Jongdae stopped him. “Don’t worry,” he insisted, “We won’t need it.”

Chanyeol studied his face a moment before nodding his assent, stuffing his wand away. His hold on Jongdae’s hand tightened as they walked up the unfamiliar stairwell.

A warm, pink light was seeping down the stairs, casting a rose-tinted glow on everything around them. As the staircase opened out into a chamber, Chanyeol’s grip on Jongdae’s hand went lax. He stopped abruptly, mouth dropping open as he took in the oval room. 

The chamber was the heart of the plant that grew along the walls outside. Jongdae was wrong to think it was an unremarkable root species. No, the plant that Lord Wilde had grown was incredibly rare. Rare and beautiful—the two things that the man himself coveted.

Its blossoms evoked the more mundane lily, but each one glowed a luminous pink. Spread across the chamber like this, they resembled glowing rose gemstones. As far as Jongdae was aware, they had no magical properties other than their propensity to radiate this beautiful, pure light.

Then again, Lorde Wilde cared not for usefulness—beauty was what he had lived for. The floor was bare, save for an ottoman couch at one end of the room and a cushioned window ledge. The ceiling and walls, on the other hand, were absolutely covered with these little beauties.

“What- what are these?” Chanyeol asked, his voice thick with awe.

Jongdae smiled. He knew the man would appreciate their beauty as much as he, even if they were nonhuman ( _especially_ _because they were nonhuman_ , he reminded himself).

“This plant belongs to an incredibly rare species that grows in secluded areas of wizarding Romania,” Jongdae murmured, his attention on Chanyeol’s enraptured expression. His ears, however, perked up to listen for the tell-tale sound of another presence.

He smirked slightly, adjusting his tone to one of intense flattery. “They’re very, very difficult to cultivate and even harder to keep alive. Lord Wilde accomplished an incredible feat, smuggling these blossoms back from Durmstrang and raising them.”

“Hear, hear, young man! I knew you were a good appl—” The Lord in question exclaimed, only to muffle his voice when he realised what he’d done.

Jongdae grinned and whirled around, hunting out the hidden painting with a knowing look and waving his wand to reveal the frame. “Ha! I knew you’d be here to eavesdrop. Go back to your other painting this instant, Oscar. I insist upon having some privacy.”

The Lord narrowed his eyes. “Why, Jongdae, I didn’t know this is what Hogwarts professors considered a reasonable deployment of their spare time.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes. “Oh, do be quiet, old man. You had dalliances with your fair share of men during your time here as a professor.”

Wilde winked, smirking at that. “Ah, yes. That I did.”

He peered over at Chanyeol, who was looking incredibly awkward. “I must say, this one is much more suited to my tastes than the other one. Big hands, bulky looking frame—strong and handsome, that’s how we like them. Good choice, Jongdae, I approve of this change of heart.”

Jongdae burst into laughter, “Oh, I’m telling Luhan that! He’s going to find and hex every single hidden painting in this room, just watch!”

Wilde winced, “You cannot prove that I said any such thing,” he sniffed. “The youth these days are so incredibly rude, I must say. I think I will take my leave. Good day to the two of you.”

Before he left, however, Oscar looked purposefully in Chanyeol’s direction once more.

“And you, young gentleman,” he stated imperiously, “I hope you know you’ll have your hands full with that one.”

Jongdae stuck his tongue out at him, and the Lord vanished with a ‘hmph’.

“Um, who was that? Should I be concerned?” Chanyeol asked, utterly (adorably) confused.

“Don’t worry about that, honestly.” Jongdae insisted.

“That was Lord Wilde, the man who created this chamber. He unveiled the secret to me a year or two ago and I’ve been frequenting this area ever since. It seems I am the only one who can, as Oscar gave permission solely to me. He’s a sneaky one, even in death.”

“Either way, I’m sure discussing the ins and outs of a dead professor is the last thing you want to do right now. I only began for the benefit of our dear Oscar. Come, let’s sit down” Jongdae insisted, pulling Chanyeol over to the window.

Jongdae and Chanyeol sat on the 19th century ottoman that lay before the window, overlooking the rest of the castle and its grounds.

The couch was relatively large, big enough for Jongdae to sleep comfortably, but Chanyeol purposefully sat close to Jongdae. His firm thighs pressed against Jongdae’s own as he spread his legs to sit a little more comfortably.

Jongdae swallowed, unable to stop himself from glancing down at the meeting of those substantial thighs. Chanyeol placed their linked hands in his lap and Jongdae couldn’t help but notice how close his hands were to—to—

 _Stop, Kim Jongdae_ , he scolded himself, _you’re meant to be talking right now, not ogling him!_

Chanyeol was blissfully oblivious to Jongdae’s less than savoury thoughts. His thumb stroked a little absentmindedly along the back of Jongdae’s hand as he gathered himself. It may have helped him clear his head, but it did nothing to help Jongdae’s filthy state of mind. Chanyeol’s hands felt searing hot against Jongdae’s, and his fingers were so _big_ compared to Jongdae's own. 

Jongdae swallowed thickly, forcing his unruly thoughts away. Now was _not_ the time.

“Jongdae?” Chanyeol murmured, looking at him softly.

“Hmmm?” Jongdae responded, thankful for the distraction.

He looked up, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes inquisitively. Those doe-like orbs were glowing pink in the light and Jongdae couldn’t resist the compulsion to lift his hand to rest against the man’s cheek.

Chanyeol leaned into the touch, making a soft noise in his throat when Jongdae’s thumb began stroking his skin. Jongdae hesitated a moment before continuing his tracing, his thumb smoothing over skin, stopping to rest at the corner of Chanyeol’s plush, full lips.

Chanyeol’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Jongdae’s own—they were darker than before. Jongdae bit his lip before slowly, very pointedly, sliding his thumb onto Chanyeol’s bottom lip.

Chanyeol’s lips parted, his tongue brushing against Jongdae’s thumb, inviting him closer. And—oh god—Jongdae’s thumb was in Chanyeol’s mouth and Chanyeol’s tongue was playing with it, making filthy sucking sounds.

Jongdae whined breathily, far too aroused for the situation, and Chanyeol smirked against his thumb. He bit gently against the skin before releasing Jongdae’s thumb. It fell from Chanyeol’s mouth with a lewd pop.

Jongdae’s mind felt hazy, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to taste Chanyeol.

He must have said something because Chanyeol responded almost instantly. He leaned forward, his firm thigh bracketing Jongdae’s own as he pushed Jongdae down against the edge of the seat.

Jongdae looked up at Chanyeol, feeling incredibly small beneath the bulk of his body. The wizard didn’t stop pushing until their chests were flush against each other, their faces inches apart.

“Kim Jongdae,” Chanyeol murmured softly, the tone of his voice contrasting starkly with his actions. His eyes were dark as he glanced at Jongdae’s lips. “May I kiss you?”

Jongdae’s heart stuttered, threatening to beat out of his chest. How was this man so incredibly sexy _and_ sweet? It was completely oxymoronic! Jongdae licked his lips in anticipation, nodding his assent. He didn’t think he could trust his voice.

Chanyeol analysed his face briefly, leaning down to briefly bump his nose against Jongdae’s. He smiled when Jongdae let out a startled breath. “Jongdae-ah, I’d like to hear you say it.”

Jongdae took a deep breath, closing his eyes before looking straight up into Chanyeol’s own. “Park Chanyeol, if you don’t kiss me this instant, I swear to M—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence.

Chanyeol’s lips were on his in a flash, his body curving into Jongdae’s as their mouths met. Chanyeol's lips were wet against his own and Jongdae released a strangled gasp when Chanyeol nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it. 

His tongue wickedly teased its way into Jongdae’s mouth, hot and wet against his own. Before he'd realised what was happening, Chanyeol’s arms reached behind Jongdae’s waist to pull him flush against his body, his tongue battling with Jongdae's own. 

Chanyeol's hands had been resting on his hips, but now they slid up Jongdae’s back, one hand reaching up to clutch his hair in a tight grip. The Herbology professor hissed when Chanyeol pulled his head back with a sharp, powerful tug. The wizard leaned down with an uncharacteristically wicked smirk, his lips making their way down Jongdae’s jawline, leaving wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. Jongdae’s skin felt like it was on fire.

Those sinful lips reached the sensitive curve of Jongdae’s neck and— _Oh Merlin—_ Jongdae couldn’t control the sharp gasp that left his open mouth. Chanyeol bit down, sucking at the skin with intent and Jongdae's hips involuntarily rocked against Chanyeol’s own. His hands slid up Chanyeol’s back, fisting into the man’s robes as his body pliantly melted beneath the other man. Eventually, Jongdae could take no more. With a heady groan, he surged up, pushing Chanyeol’s body back. The man’s lips were still fervently attached to Jongdae’s neck, bent on marking the skin, but he let himself be pushed back without a fight.

Jongdae straddled Chanyeol’s thighs, letting out a startled moan when Chanyeol immediately gripped his hips in a bruising hold and pulled him impossibly closer. His lips detached themselves from Jongdae’s wet neck and Jongdae whined at the loss of heat. Chanyeol smirked at that, smouldering eyes boring into Jongdae’s own as he slowly, powerfully, rolled his hips against Jongdae’s. Their crotches met, their lengths pressing against each other briefly. Both men moaned breathily at the friction.

Jongdae curled his fingers into Chanyeol’s shirt, pulling him upwards. The professor followed willingly, his hips grinding against Jongdae’s own as their mouths met again, heady with desire.

Jongdae kissed Chanyeol until he couldn’t breathe, sharp pants escaping his lips as he all but collapsed against Chanyeol’s chest. His trousers were far too tight, and he wanted nothing more than to shove his hand down them and release his aching dick from its confines. But that could wait.

Chanyeol’s arms came up to hold Jongdae, his body heaving beneath Jongdae’s head as he pulled the man securely against his chest. As painful as this was, it was soothing to know he wasn’t alone in his suffering; he could feel Chanyeol’s length pulsing beneath him. With a sly grin, Jongdae shifted his hips slightly, rubbing up and—“Oh _Merlin_ ,” Chanyeol grunted, his hands reaching out to still Jongdae’s hips as his own canted up.

The professor took a deep, calming breath, sighing in regret as he pressed a small kiss to Jongdae’s forehead before pulling away. “Perhaps we should talk first,” he murmured, tenderly stroking Jongdae’s bruised lips. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if we begin again,” he confessed.

Jongdae nodded—that was probably a wise idea.

They sat there, their bodies rising and falling in tandem as they attempted to regain control of their breathing.

Out of nowhere, Chanyeol burst into a rueful chuckle.

Jongdae made an inquisitive sound, peering up from his perch on the man’s lap.

“It’s just… I’ve been waiting to do that for ages,” Chanyeol admitted, “and I felt so guilty every time I wanted it because, well, I thought you and Luhan were dating.”

Jongdae lifted his head a little higher, pressing a light kiss to Chanyeol’s jaw before responding. “Trust me, I wanted you just as much. Luhan was about ready to hex my ass because of how much I was pining.”

Chanyeol laughed at that, his chest vibrating beneath Jongdae’s ears. “We really are a pair of idiots, aren’t we?”

“That we are,” Jongdae agreed, shaking his head at the mess this last month had been.

“So…” Chanyeol interjected after a few moments of comfortable silence, his voice adopting a teasing lilt. “Are you _sure_ you’re not dating Luhan? Because that Wilde guy looked pretty interested in me—”

Jongdae’s eyes narrowed and he slapped Chanyeol’s chest, “Oi, I’ll have you know that I don’t plan on letting anyone else have you after all that. Especially not a _dead_ guy.”

Chanyeol grabbed the offending hand with a genial laugh, his fingers intertwining with Jongdae’s own. He pulled Jongdae impossibly closer before murmuring his response against his head.

“Don’t worry, Kim Jongdae. I don’t plan on letting you go either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... rating's changed,,,
> 
> hope this lived up to expectations


	11. wolf-beings, they lie in hungry waiting

The next few days went by in quite a regular fashion despite the unexpected turn of events in Jongdae’s life. Luhan (obviously) gave him shit about his new boyfriend, and he was 90% sure he’d get a long, rambling letter of congratulations and floo call request from Heeyeon soon enough (the floo link had _finally_ been established, no thanks to the painfully inefficient International Travel and Communications office), but other than that life proceeded as normal.

His students were blissfully unaware of his relationship with Chanyeol—an absolute relief given the man’s celebrity status. Jongdae dreaded to think what would happen if _The Daily Prophet_ got their hands on the situation; he was convinced they’d fashion an infamous scandal out of the whole affair.

The other teachers had yet to either notice or say anything, with the notable exception of the headmaster. The infuriatingly omniscient wizard had sent a playful wink Jongdae’s way as he and Chanyeol walked up to the table earlier this week, looking over his half-moon glasses in that absent yet very pointed _I-know-what-you’ve-been-up-to_ fashion of his.

Jongdae had blushed bright red in response, spluttering awkwardly. Professor Dumbledore had a way of making him feel like he was a rather misbehaved students at times, embarrassing as it was to admit. He sorely hoped the headmaster wasn’t as _in the know_ as his behaviour seemed to imply; Jongdae would never be able to look the old coot in the eyes again if that was the case.

The only other person who seemed to know something had changed was one Jackson Morgan. The student had always been far too astute, Jongdae thought with a wince. He should have realised something was up when the kid all but scurried away the last time he’d been in the vicinity of the two of them together.

It happened like this. Jongdae (who was notoriously bad at getting things prepped on time in a regular academic setting) had rushed to the Greenhouses earlier that morning. He’d barely had time to make himself look presentable and, if Luhan hadn’t sent a cup of tea and some toast down with a house elf, Jongdae would have had to endure hunger until it was time for lunch.

You see, _normally_ Jongdae wouldn’t have an entire Greenhouse of plants to worry about during the first month of term and, thus, he could get on with the time-consuming task of preparing NEWT level lessons in Greenhouse 3. That hadn’t happened this year.

Between the distraction that Chanyeol had posed, and the mess that he’d returned to in Greenhouse 2, Jongdae had accidentally neglected the preparation of some of his NEWT materials. Okay, _neglected_ was a bad term. He was doing them! It’s just that he was a tad behind. Only a teensy weeny bit, mind you.

And so, in true Jongdae fashion, he was completing his arrangement of materials for the upcoming NEWT lesson on the morning of said NEWT lesson. Luckily, this task would consume the better part of the month or Jongdae would have been infinitely more harried.

As it stood, he was in good stead for getting things done on time. All the relevant plants were arranged on display (looking beautiful, he might add, but he was very much biased), the information packs that he had _hand crafted_ and _personally updated_ to match recent changes in herbological research were placed in a stack on his desk, the seedlings had been methodically arranged, and his chalk was at the ready. With an extremely exhausted sigh, Jongdae yanked off his filthy gloves, glaring sternly at the sentient plants before him.

“I expect you to behave, all of you,” he began, striding in front of the table he’d placed them on like some kind of Auror figure. “These kids haven’t handled plants of your calibre quite yet so I would prefer it if you didn’t scare them away. Now, my dear little Venemous Tentactula, if you could please _try_ not to look quite so acidic. And you, my preci—”

A polite cough had interrupted his pep talk. Jongdae automatically flushed, head snapping up to see Jackson loitering in the entryway. “Professor Kim, sir, I don’t think the Tentactula understands you… perhaps if you gave it a snack instead, it might co-operate a little more?” the student offered in jest, smirking a little.

Jongdae rolled his eyes, releasing a fondly exasperated sigh, “yes, yes, Jackson, I am very much aware of the odd nature of my habits. But you should do well to remember that any herbologist worth his salt will truly love his plants… it’s only a matter of time before you, too, join the ranks of those of us with truly peculiar plant related behaviour.”

Jackson laughed, sitting down and pulling out his quill and parchment. “I’ll pass, sir. I love plants, but I don’t think I’ll ever talk to them as you do.”

Jongdae chuckled at that, understanding what the boy was implying. But ah, how wrong he was. While Jackson was right in thinking that conversation with plants was going a little overboard, he wasn’t entirely correct in his assumption that it served no purpose.

He considered how to approach the subject properly, leaning an elbow on Jackson’s desk as he thought. After a moment’s contemplation, he looked over at his student, who’s eyes seemed to be focusing somewhere past Jongdae’s neck. Jongdae coughed pointedly and Jackson snapped his head up, flushing red. “S-sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to be rude—”

Jongdae laughed, “It’s quite alright, Jackson. You’re here 15 minutes early for a _morning class_ , it’s okay to be a little out of it.”

He looked over at his Tentactula then. “Back to what you said earlier, though. I know it may seem a little eccentric to speak to plants. In fact, anyone without herbological expertise would consider you positively insane. But it might interest you to know that plants with more potent magical signatures actually respond very well to the speech of their caretaker.

The nurturing process familiarises your magical core to their own, you see, and so they become more susceptible to your person. You’ll find that your speech can affect them in various ways; my Tentactula, for example, will immediately go limp the moment I start singing. I’ve never suffered a single bite,” he explained.

Jackson nodded, absorbing the information. “Could you recommend any studies on the subject, Professor? You make it seem incredibly simple, but you have a talent for herbology that people across the country acknowledge! I’m pretty sure there’s a little more magic involved in the talking thing and I’d like to have a look at the theory behind it, if possible.”

Jongdae chuckled, “always so quick to spot the gaps in what I say, aren’t you? Yes, there is magic involved, but it’s more on the instinctual side. I don’t believe there are any incantations involved, so to speak. If you wish to delve into the method, however, I’d recommend looking into Professor Maktoum’s recent book—I believe there’s a chapter dedicated to the information you seek.”

He paused at that, realising how difficult the copy was to get a hold of. It had just been released to international critical acclaim and its price had skyrocketed in response. Not to mention that it was published in _Dubai_. The import tax alone was pricey. Jongdae was lucky that Yousef considered him a good friend and had sent him a copy as a gesture of goodwill after their last project together.

“In fact,” he continued, “you’re more than welcome to borrow my copy. I’ll have it ready for you at the end of next lesson, if you’d like?”

Jackson smiled at that, “Thank you, Professor! If I can work out how to channel speech like that, it’ll help an awful lot with my side project.”

Jongdae nodded, agreeing silently. He lifted his elbow off the table, eyes flickering to his watch; there were five minutes until the rest of the class trooped in.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing at how sore it felt as he turned to his desk. Before he could completely turn, however, Jackson coughed again.

“Yes?” Jongdae asked, a little confused.

“Uh, Professor?” the boy began, looking a little awkwardly at Jongdae’s neck. “Y-you might want to glamour that mark on your neck. But only if that’s what you want, of course!”

Jongdae slapped his hand against his neck, mortified. _Oh Lord, he’d forgotten to hide the bruise Chanyeol had given him in his rush this morning! Oh, sweet Merlin!_

Jongdae immediately cast a non-verbal glamour spell on his neck, grimacing as it stuck to the skin. He nodded a thank you at Jackson, whose discomfort seemed to have melted away. The boy looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

After collecting himself, Jackson piped up once more, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Professor?” he asked.

Jongdae raised an eyebrow in response, waiting on the boy’s next words.

“When _Witch Weekly_ finds out, you’re going to get an awful lot of Howlers. Professor Park’s _quite_ the eligible bachelor, so I hear.” he teased, flashing a cheeky grin as the rest of his class filed in. 

Jongdae rolled his eyes at the seventh year student, turning to greet the rest of his class. If it had been a student in any other year, they’d have gotten a detention faster than they could blink. But seventh years… Jongdae was partial to them. He’d taught them for ages by that point and he nearly always developed a strong bond with each of them. That kind of bond meant that a little banter didn’t often go amiss. Plus, it was their final year! They deserved a little leeway here and there.

Once his class was seated and comfortable, Jongdae smiled warmly in welcome. The class waved and smiled back at him, most of them still bleary with sleep. Once they had their quills ready, Jongdae tapped the chalk with his wand.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you’re all feeling well-rested because this lesson is an important one. I am about to assign one of the biggest projects of your NEWT qualification, a project that is worth 30%,” Jongdae began. The class immediately perked up in response to his words as the chalk wrote the words _30%_ on the board.

“I’m sure all of you have noticed the array of plants to your left. There are seven in total, each one presenting a different challenge to the herbologists in this room.” Jongdae continued, watching as his students catalogued the plants he’d spread out for their viewing.

“Your task is as follows: each of you will choose a seedling that you will then nurture and raise in a Greenhouse I’ve had erected for this very purpose. Within that Greenhouse, there are small cubicles for each student which will only, and I repeat _only_ , open to their magical signature and my own,” he explained.

“Alongside this practical element, I’m afraid that every one of you will also have to produce an essay detailing the research you have conducted and the process you underwent. This will be around 10 rolls of parchment in length,” Jongdae instructed, pausing to allow time for the ensuing groans of protest he knew would follow. He chuckled a little at some of the more vocal complaints and pleas, knowing his students weren’t all that serious in their displeasure. Essays were par for the course at NEWT level. 

“I understand that this will add much to the workload you already bear, but I must also remind you that Herbology, much like Potions or Care of Magical Creatures, is a _practical subject_. When you opted for this NEWT over Arithmancy or another such essay-based subject, you signed up for tasks like these,” he continued, giving Nwando Williamson a pointed glance. He knew the boy hated long-term projects during the school term, but it truly was necessary this time. Nwando grimaced but nodded his acceptance, brushing his thick locks away from his face as he turned to study the plants.

“That is the crux of the task I wished to set. If any of you would like to tailor this project to help aid your plans on leaving Hogwarts, I am more than happy to discuss avenues you can take and advise you in that regard. Aleksander, Nwando, I think this might benefit the two of you in particular—this project could help you attain an apprenticeship with the Healer of your choice if done well. Now, before I continue on, are there any questions?” Jongdae asked, nodding when Abigail’s hand shot up.

The rest of the day continued in much the same manner, and Jongdae was quite frankly exhausted by the time his third years filed out of the room at the end of the day. Herbology could result in unforeseen dangers and it was his duty to pay rapt attention and ensure his students remained safe.

The moment the Greenhouse door slammed shut, Jongdae planted his face against the desk. _Dinner Schminner_ , he thought, closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. Sleep sounded much more appealing than food right now.

He was seconds away from dropping off when the door to the Greenhouse opened once more. _Oh for heaven’s sake,_ Jongdae thought, trying his hardest not to groan aloud. He prayed it wasn’t a student that needed his counsel—he had office hours for that kind of thing. 

He schooled his features and lifted his head, turning to greet the newcomer with a smile.

“How can I be of a—Chanyeol?” He broke off in surprise.

Chanyeol was leaning against a pillar, looking bemused as one of the clingy vines wound its way around his leg. He was dressed down, attired in a comfortable set of silken robes. Jongdae was unfamiliar with the garment itself, the style and print so unlike what most English tailors tended to use. It was probably of Korean origin, much like the majority of Chanyeol’s wardrobe—the man took pride in his heritage. His undershirt was loose, his hair messy and he looked so incredibly warm in the halo of disappearing light that crowned his head; Jongdae wanted nothing more than to hold him and never let go.

Chanyeol looked away from the vine at the sound of his voice, breaking into a gentle smile when his eyes met Jongdae’s. He disentangled himself with his wand, tucking it away before opening his arms in a silent invitation, beckoning Jongdae closer.

Jongdae slid off his stool and walked the three short steps that separated them, instinctively burrowing himself into that silk clad embrace. Chanyeol’s arms tightened around him, pulling his body closer to his chest. His cheek came down to rest against Jongdae’s hair. 

“I missed you,” Chanyeol murmured, voice so low that Jongdae could feel it rumble through his chest.

Jongdae chuckled good naturedly at that, knowing the man was exaggerating. He prodded at the part of his partner’s chest that he could reach in accusation. “You literally see me every day in the Great Hall, you great big buffoon.”

Chanyeol shook his head emphatically, the movement swaying Jongdae too. “That doesn’t count!” he whined. “I have to sit on the other end of the table, and I can barely see you over Professor McGonagall’s hat!”

“You’re being a big baby,” Jongdae teased. “But I guess you’re not wrong. We should probably try and spend some time together in the evenings, if that sounds good? I’ve been super busy this week getting NEWT materials written up, but we could always mark together. And we have weekends to relax!”

Chanyeol hummed thoughtfully, “I spend two school evenings marking and the others in the forest... perhaps we could spend those two nights together? And weekends we can work out, I guess. My schedule’s in the air at the moment but we could always figure it out week by week.”

Jongdae nodded his agreement, his cheek smushing against the fabric of Chanyeol’s shirt. He revelled for a minute in the heady scent of Chanyeol’s perfume, noting how good it smelt up close.

“That works out well enough,” he admitted after a while, “Heeyeon won’t be back at Hogwarts until after Christmas, so I’ll probably be in Luhan’s office the other evenings. Either that, or in one of these Greenhouses.”

Chanyeol made a noise of understanding only to gasp out a sudden laugh when Jongdae slipped his hands under his shirt playfully. Jongdae couldn’t help it! It was freezing in this part of the Greenhouse and Chanyeol’s skin was enticingly warm.

They stood there for a little longer, Jongdae’s palms pressed against his partner’s back, their bodies swaying a little as they held one another. Eventually, Chanyeol pulled back, sighing in regret. “We should probably go grab something to eat tonight. I don’t know about you, but I really am famished.”

Jongdae nodded in confirmation, looking down at his watch. “If we hurry, we’ll make it before dinner’s served.”

They made their way back up to the castle as the sun set over the edge of the trees, hands linked under the long sleeves of their robes while they traversed the length of the grounds. Both men were so wrapped up in each other, in the novelty of their relationship, that they didn't register the phantom presence of a hawk-like gaze that was trained on their retreating figures, sheer hatred emanating from the eyes of its beholder.

**� ...** **�**

Jongdae was absolutely _knackered_ by the time he trudged up the stairs to Luhan’s rooms to firecall Heeyeon. The woman had practically sent him a Howler (without the actual howling, mind you) when Han had updated her about the ‘boyfriend situation’ as she termed it.

In Jongdae’s defence, he couldn’t have flooed her when the connection hadn’t been set up, and writing letters was tedious enough without having to pour out his emotional turmoil into the darn things. He’d thought that Han would have updated her but apparently he’d done no such thing. His bondmate had probably waxed poetic on every single line of his letters, lamenting the loss of her presence in his life.

It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to Heeyeon, because of course he did! She was his big sister for crying out loud. It was more the inevitable lecture he dreaded… he doubted the miles between their respective schools would do anything to dampen her irritation at being kept out of the loop.

Jongdae had even considered dragging Chanyeol along, hoping that his presence would soothe Heeyeon’s ruffled feathers. He had no such luck however—Chanyeol was busy tracking a herd of unicorns for a class later that week, and they were proving ever elusive.

Luhan was already firecalling by the time Jongdae walked into the room. At the sound of the door closing, Heeyeon all but shouted: “Jongdae-ah, is that you? Get down here this instant!”

Luhan was laughing as he pulled his head out of the fireplace. “You might want to hurry, she’s mad at you,” he warned, pulling Jongdae forward by his robes.

Jongdae winced theatrically, dropping down to his knees in front of the fireplace. The stone floor was warm, but uncomfortable; there was no way his knees were going to survive this without a cushioning charm. Jongdae reached out for his wand, preparing to cast the charm before realising his legs didn’t hurt anymore. He stared at the floor in confusion before realising that his knees had already been cushioned.

He murmured a ‘thank you’ Luhan’s way, leaving his wand on the stone as he pushed his head into the emerald flames. His senses were assaulted by thick smog, fumes entering his system before he emerged on the other side.

He blinked once he felt cool air on his face, a little disoriented after the experience. It had been quite a while since he’d last spoken to anyone over the floo.

The disorientation didn’t last long, however, and Jongdae’s jaw dropped when he saw the room Heeyeon was staying in. It was an incredibly elegant structure. Even from his relatively low vantage point, Jongdae could see that.

The room was decorated in varying shades of blue, as was the Beauxbatons way, the colours ranging from a periwinkle to a richer shade of cerulean. It was accented by what Jongdae could only assume was pure gold—hanging from the crystal chandelier, lining the dresser next to Heeyeon’s bed… even the window and door handles seemed to be solid gold.

Heeyon had comfortable armchairs (sophisticated, of course, and they matched the décor), a sturdy desk and a balcony which provided a view that would rival that of Hogwarts. Even her carpet was plush and luxurious. _Damn_ , Jongdae thought, _I need to transfer to Beauxbatons_.

He was snapped out of his reverie by a sharp cough and he had the good sense to flush a bright red. “Sorry, Heeyon-noona! I didn’t mean to blank you,” he responded hurriedly. “But noona, you never told me your room was this amazing!”

Heeyeon raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in response. She looked soft and gentle, attired as she was in a pair of silken bed-robes with her hair loose around her face. But her expression… yikes, Jongdae was in trouble.

 _Time to look cute_ , Jongdae thought, immediately switching to full pout mode. “Noonaaaaaa,” he whined, “I’m so so sorry I didn’t tell you about Chanyeol, but I was scared! And confused! And it hurt to talk about it and I didn’t want to write it down. And the floo wasn’t sorted yet and—”

He was interrupted by Luhan sniggering in the background. If it was any other time, Jongdae would have reached back and kicked him in the shin. But Heeyeon was mad at him and he really didn’t want to push his luck.

He opted to blink at his noona instead, smiling cutely and waiting for her to melt (she was weak for him and he knew it, it was only a matter of time before she broke).

Heeyeon shook her head in amusement, her shoulders slouching a little as she leaned towards him. _Victory_ , Jongdae thought smugly. He’d gotten away with it.

Or so he thought.

Just when he thought he’d gotten off scot-free, Heeyeon reached out and flicked his forehead powerfully. Jongdae let out a shout, almost unbalancing himself when his hands automatically moved to rub at the spot.

“Noona!” Jongdae whined, “I said I was sorry!”

Heeyeon shrugged, not in the least bit repentant. “You had a whole _month,_ Kim Jongdae!” She reminded him, looking slightly hurt. “I can’t believe I found out _second hand_ that you liked someone, and even that was _after you started dating him_. And who even is this guy? Is he worth your company? Does he treat you well? Does noona have to threaten him?”

Jongdae smiled in response to Heeyeon’s concern, knowing her anger had abated if she was willing to voice her worry.

“Don’t worry, noona! Han vetted him for me, he’s completely safe and nice. Nothing like that other nasty piece of work, I swear!” Jongdae promised.

Heeyeon narrowed her eyes, “Are you sure, Jongdae-ah? Your taste in men is really quite deplorable.”

Jongdae winced, knowing Heeyon wasn’t wrong about that. At least, not as far as his past relations went. But Chanyeol honestly wasn’t like any of the other guys Jongdae had dated. He was wholesome, and pure and so unbelievably good that Jongdae himself couldn’t quite believe his luck.

He set about trying to convince Heeyeon of the fact and, after an anecdote or two, she began to look a little less skeptical. It didn’t matter though, Jongdae knew she’d believe him when she met Chanyeol.

Heeyeon looked at Jongdae, her eyes glinting green from the reflection of the fire. It was such a sharp colour but the affection in Heeyeon’s expression softened it immeasurably.

“Jongdae-ah, I’m glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy. Han spent the better half of this evening convincing me that Park Chanyeol was every bit as good as various _Witch’s Own_ magazines claim that he is, but I wasn’t convinced. What I am convinced of, though, is that he makes you happy. You seem… content,” she concluded, “It really is a good look on you.”

Jongdae smiled, “I can’t wait for you to meet him, noona. You’ll like him, I know you will. I wanted to bring him over tonight but he’s out in the forest.”

Jongdae paused then, seeing an opportunity to rile Heeyeon up a little. “Then again, maybe it would be better to introduce you in person?” he began, “After all, noona, you really can be a handful on your own!”

Heeyeon gasped indignantly. “Yah, Kim Jongdae, you take that back!”

Jongdae laughed, choosing instead to stick his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes at his childish antics before looking down at her watch, wincing when she noticed the time. “Aish, I’d better head off. It’s 11 in the evening, and I still have a few essays to mark before I can call it a night.”

Jongdae vocalised his agreement, realising he should probably get to his rooms too. “Night, noona. Should I call Luhan over…?”

Heeyeon shook her head, “Nah, don’t worry about it. We already said our goodbyes. I’ll call you guys again soon, yeah?”

Jongdae nodded, waving goodbye as he moved his head out of the fire. The flames flashed a bright emerald when he left the fireplace, returning to their usual gold once he was gone. Jongdae scrunched his eyes up, the soot making it a little difficult to see the room clearly. He felt about for his wand, grabbing a hold of it and casting a quick “Scourgify”.

He looked around the room, frowning when he couldn’t immediately spot Luhan. It took a minute to realise that the idiot had taken to his desk and begun to mark, only to fall asleep over the papers with his quill still in hand. Luckily, Luhan invested in the no-drip type, or Jongdae was convinced those essays would have been splotched in ink by now.

He walked over to the desk, gently easing the quill out of Luhan’s hand before setting it back into its pot. With the aid of his wand, Jongdae moved Han’s chair smoothly back, his hand settling beneath his bondmate’s face to ensure he didn’t fall straight to the floor once the table no longer held his weight.

The movement woke Luhan and he blinked up at Jongdae in confusion. Jongdae ran his free hand through Luhan’s hair to placate him, murmuring quietly to his partner. “Don’t worry, Luhan-ge, it’s only me. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

Luhan mumbled his assent and Jongdae almost laughed at how adorable he was, his cheek red from leaning against the desk and his hair all mussed up. Jongdae leaned down, sliding an arm under Han’s knees to lift him up and carry him across to his bedroom.

Jongdae didn’t need to bother with any light, not when the layout of Han’s room was as familiar to him as his own. He made his way across the stone floor, stopping at the edge of Han’s bed and easing off the covers using a nonverbal spell. He gently lowered Han onto the mattress, smiling when the man immediately snuggled into his pillow and grabbed for his blankets. He was still in his clothes, but there was no way Jongdae would be able to change him without disturbing him and Han looked far too comfortable for that.

He reached down to smooth Luhan’s hair, pressing a kiss to his bondmate’s forehead tenderly. Jongdae's hands grasped the covers, pulling them up to make sure Luhan was properly tucked in before heading off to his own rooms. It was late, and he had another early start tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys, can i just say that i'm sorry this is so late! uni just started up again, so I've been catching up on seminar readings and the like. and it's ramadan, of course, so my timetable is super skewed at the moment! (mubarak to my fellow muslims, btw).
> 
> on a side note--is anyone planning on watching produce camp 2020 in China?? I already adore like three of the girls, but I would watch it anyway for Luhan and Zitao.


	12. the portrait of the herbologist as an old man

The sun was rising, its beams painting the walls in splashes of brilliant gold. The roots that grew along it seemed to shimmer like trinkets in the morning light that bathed them. Oscar took a seat in his comfiest armchair (he had insisted he be painted in a fully equipped drawing room; he was _not_ going to suffer from lack of material objects in his afterlife, thank you very much) to observe the natural beauties that lay before him.

His fingers itched for quill, or perhaps a paintbrush—there was so much he could do with this image. It looked like Midas himself had brushed his fingers against the roots that adorned the wall, creating an ornament that wound its way in the most peculiarly fascinating manner.

Oscar mused over the view that lay before him, laughing brightly at the memories it brought with it. Once, when he was a much younger man, his darling (read: absolutely god-awful) Aunt Laetitia had decided she wanted to redecorate her dining room in the German fashion. Oscar himself could appreciate the German style—it brought with it a certain allure, particularly when contrasted against the commonplace items of an English drawing room.

But his Aunt… lord, that woman had absolutely no taste. She ended up spending an absolute fortune on having the entire room redecorated. Loathe as he was to admit it, it definitely acted like expensive wallpaper. That was as far as he could go with complimenting it, however. The whole room ended up looking positively garish. Oscar had taken one look at it when he walked in, only to turn to his Aunt with what he had to assume was the most horrified expression he had ever worn.

He’d been incredulous! So incredulous that any attempt at filtering his words flew out of the window and he’d ended up insisting that “one of us will absolutely _have to go_ , Auntie dearest. This wallpaper will be the death of me!” Needless to say, she’d ousted him from the room with an incredibly put out expression. Oscar’s own mother was furious at him for insulting her sister so, but he hadn’t been in the slightest bit fazed. He’d spoken the honest truth, after all, and he would stand by it.

A shadow flitted across the wall, drawing Oscar out of his thoughts. It was only 7am according to his watch. _What was that?_ he wondered. Students were most likely still in bed, and the only teacher that resided in this area of the corridor was Luhan. Perhaps it was Jongd—no, the boy would definitely have stopped to converse with him, and he was quite sure he wouldn’t have missed an entire _person_ walking past his portrait, no matter how absorbed he was on his thoughts.

Oscar didn’t understand why that small flicker unnerved him so. It was tiny, something so irrelevant that it barely registered on his peripheral vision. Oscar swept his gaze across the wall, hunting for the source of that movement. _Nothing_ , he sighed, _there’s nothing here_. Just as he was about to give in and write the entire episode off as a case of hallucination and paranoia, the shadow flickered again.

 _Aha!_ He thought, _it’s a bird! That’s completely harmless, there’s nothing to be concerned about._ Oscar shook his head, forcing his body out of the tense setting it had acquired. He was being completely and utterly daft.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Oscar realised why the shadow had unsettled him so much. The castle’s walls were warded against outside creatures—if they weren’t, Hogwarts would have become home to thousands of irritating pests. Unless a wizard had performed a charm to accommodate the creature, it wouldn’t be welcome.

The baby acromantulas that once crawled across the floors of the castle were, for example, spelled into the wards by one Rubeus Hagrid (Oscar was still unable to believe the half-giant had done the magic himself; the boy had never been a very powerful wizard). Once that Riddle fellow (nasty piece of work, he was) had failed to kill the first, Professor Dippet attempted to oust the species. He didn’t quite manage, however, and Dumbledore had to renew the spell when he adopted the post of headmaster a few decades later.

The only animals that roamed this castle (or so much as landed on its stone) were the pets that staff and students had, wizarding owls and the various transfigured objects-turned-creatures that escaped from Professor McGonagall’s classroom every year. And that bird, that ink black raven, that had settled on the window outside Luhan’s office was none of the above. Of that fact, at least, Oscar was sure. He resolved to keep an eye on the corridor, just in case; it was better to be safe, he convinced himself. Yes, that was a good idea: he’d keep a lookout.

With determination, Oscar walked out of the frame of his portrait. It might help if he got one or two other pairs of eyes peeled too—discreet ones, obviously. There was no way he was saying _a word_ to that obnoxiously loud Sir Cadogan figure. He’d let the cat out of the bag before the day was out. No… but perhaps it would be worthwhile to speak to one or two choicely placed portraits, he thought as he made his way through the castle, apologising profusely to the sleeping inhabitants of the portraits he walked through. “Urgent business, I’m afraid,” he murmured as he strode swiftly on. Urgent business indeed.

**� ...** **�**

Jongdae’s wand arm was positively aching with all the writing he was doing. He’d invested in an expensive quill, as did most professors, but even then the task of marking parchment upon parchment of work was a taxing job. It was 9 in the evening and he’d just about gotten through the pile he’d allocated for today. _Two essays left_ , Jongdae thought grimly, lifting his quill and dipping it into the inkpot.

He took a deep breath to compose his mind, filtering out his exhaustion before he began to mark. The last thing he wanted to do was project his strained frame of mind onto the essays he assessed. It only led to harsh, unhelpful feedback, and that would benefit no one. With a sigh, he picked up the essay, only to chuckle when he saw the messy scrawl that adorned the page.

He shook his head in bemusement. He understood why it was necessary for OWL and NEWT students to hand in anonymised work. It reduced partial marking and meant that feedback was much less biased, ensuring that grades were as accurate as they could be. The flaw in the system, though, was _handwriting_. Many students had a distinguished hand which meant he often had an inkling of whose work he was marking. It didn’t really matter though; Jongdae wasn’t about to let that knowledge cloud his judgement. If anything, recognising a student’s work meant that he read it that much more harshly.

Jongdae made his way through the exam paper, making odd mumbling sounds as he scrawled comments across the margins. _Interesting point_ , he noted at one point, _but surely harvesting a piece of the bark of a Wiggentree alone for protection against dark creatures isn’t your best option? The trunk needs to be imbued with the essence of life to provide such protection._

He paused for a second, contemplating his words before adding to his comment. _If you’re trying to use this particular plant for protective measures,_ he continued, _it may be wiser to carry a shrunken, frozen version as an accessory of some sort (loathe as I am to take that route) or perhaps to brew a potion using the bark. There are other, wiser plant options for the kind of protection you’re looking for, however, and these are much easier to write about in an essay, I assure you! Turn to page 67 in your assigned textbook and you’ll find what you need._

He finished commenting on the last paragraph (a slightly strange conclusion, he had to admit, but it did work well within the frame of the question), scribbling an _Acceptable_ at the bottom of the essay. It was sad really, the essay writer was definitely more of an Exceeds Expectations student (the assurance of the writing had made that clear), but the research was lacking. Perhaps he needed to give a recap lesson, he thought, shoving his quill into its pot and rolling up the essay.

Just as he placed the marked assignment into his ‘completed’ draw, the door to his office slid open. Jongdae’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion—it was 9:30, and most teachers were holed up in their offices by this point. Chanyeol’s head popped through the gap and Jongdae smiled softly as the other Professor attempted to balance two steaming mugs and close the door at the same time.

Jongdae waved his hand and the door clicked shut instantly. Chanyeol grinned sheepishly, “Oops,” he admitted, “A spell would have been much easier.”

Jongdae laughed, “It probably would have been,” he agreed, eyeing the mugs with interest as his partner came closer.

Chanyeol offered one of the beverages to Jongdae, slipping down to sit beside him. His arm reached out to curl around Jongdae’s shoulders and Jongdae hummed contentedly. He took a small sip of the drink—hot chocolate, he noted fondly—before placing it onto his desk and snuggling into Chanyeol’s side. For the hundredth time, Jongdae thanked Merlin that he’d decided to transfigure his (one man) armchair into a slightly larger couch. It made cuddling while sharing one desk so much easier, especially when they marked together.

“So,” Chanyeol began, speaking softly, his breath brushing against Jongdae’s hair, “I know coming to your office first and flooing for hot chocolate from the kitchens would have been miles easier but I wanted to surprise you—sorry for coming up so late.”

Jongdae looked up at his partner at the last part, realising that his boyfriend actually felt _guilty_ for coming by later than usual. Jongdae rolled his eyes, pulling away slightly so he could turn and face his idiot partner.

“Chanyeol-ah,” he murmured, his hand resting on his boyfriend’s neck, “don’t be daft. I didn’t expect you at all today when I found out what Dumbledore had asked you to do for him. I have no idea how you managed to get the centaurs to agree to a conference with him so fast! And anyway, I wasn’t exactly doing anything interesting. And the hot chocolate was a lovely gift, love. Why are you apologising?”

Chanyeol bit his lip, worrying it slightly between his teeth. He sighed, putting his own hot chocolate down. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I know I’m being an idiot but I just—I feel so lucky that I have you, you know? And I keep worrying that one day you’re going to turn around and realise that I’m really just a plain, boring guy and that you could do so much better and—”

Jongdae stared at the man in confusion. Did he not realise that he was literally acknowledged as _the number one eligible bachelor_ in most wizarding communities? That he was incredibly handsome, and intelligent and capable? Jongdae shook his head in disbelief, sliding his hand up to cup his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Chanyeol, baby, you’re so, so incredibly wrong. How can you sell yourself so short? Even if we weren’t dating, I’d say the same—I’ve respected you for years, and I’ve admired you for just as long!”

Chanyeol was shaking his head, and Jongdae, well he was having none of it. He eased his fingers into Chanyeol’s hair, reaching up to press a gentle peck against his boyfriend’s lips before any more negative words escaped them. Jongdae smiled at the way Chanyeol’s breath stuttered, leaning in for another kiss and then another. His boyfriend groaned quietly, his hands reaching out to pull Jongdae’s body closer. They kissed softly, languidly, savouring the intimacy of the moment.

Jongdae was the first to pull away slightly, ever so slightly, until their lips were mere centimetres apart, their noses touching. “Baby, listen to me,” he murmured, “You’re more than enough, okay? You’re all I want, I swear. You don’t have to worry. You’re mine, and I’m yours,” he insisted, leaning in to kiss those final words onto his boyfriend’s lips.

Chanyeol’s grip tightened around Jongdae’s body when they finally pulled apart and Jongdae snuggled into his boyfriend’s chest, content to be held for a while longer. The hot chocolate wasn’t going cold any time soon, and the night was still young. They had time, he thought as Chanyeol’s fingers traced patterns into his arm, they had plenty of time.

**� ...** **�**

The next morning, Jongdae forced himself out of bed earlier than usual. The sun had just about risen, and it was freezing cold, but Jongdae needed to get to breakfast quickly. It was a matter of the utmost importance, and sleep had to be forsaken.

For the past few days, he’d been feeling a little out of sorts. He hadn’t quite realised what was causing it until last night when, after Chanyeol had finally headed off, Jongdae had tumbled into bed. He’d turned over and was snuggling into his covers when his eyes focused on the shimmering Chinese characters that were painted onto his bedposts. Luhan had insisted on it—protection, he claimed.

It was a form of defensive magic he’d studied while at school in China, and he’d begged Jongdae to let him imbue it into his bed at the very least. Luhan had been terrified that something may have happened to Jongdae while he was vulnerable and unaware, and Jongdae, though he couldn’t comprehend anything happening to him at Hogwarts, could never deny Luhan anything.

He’d been reminiscing fondly when it hit him. The bond—he hadn’t felt any proper emotion from the bond in _days_. Jongdae sifted through his memories of the past week, trying to figure out why he hadn’t noticed the absence sooner. Luhan must’ve slowly cut it off, he realised with worry. His bondmate had done this a few times before, and it never boded well. Something was up.

Jongdae hurriedly got ready for the day and rushed out of his office in a whirlwind like manner, his robes billowed out behind him as he all but raced through the corridors; he wanted to catch Luhan before too many people entered the hall for breakfast. He made it to the doors of the hall by 7:30, which was decent enough he supposed. There’d probably be a scattering of teachers and either a quidditch team or study group or two, but that was okay. Better than a full house.

He walked through the open doors, his eyes seeking out Luhan’s familiar figure. He was there ( _thank heavens_ , Jongdae thought. He’d been worried Han would avoid the places he was likely to be, as he’d done before when he’d gotten like this).

Jongdae frowned as he got closer to the table, noting the slight slump in Han’s shoulders, the eyebags that were more pronounced than usual, the way he was toying with the edge of his robes. To the untrained eye, Han was fine. But Jongdae could tell, he _knew_ something was up.

He sidled into his seat and tried not to wince when Luhan’s head snapped up, shock and discomfort colouring his expression. This was the one thing Han never remembered about blocking his side of the bond—it meant that he couldn’t sense Jongdae’s presence at all.

Jongdae’s eyes flitted around the hall, ensuring that no one was paying attention to them. He murmured a few privacy spells before focusing completely on his bondmate. “Han,” he murmured, “Do you want to get out of here? Or are we going to hash this out in the Great Hall?”

Luhan’s entire form screamed reluctance and Jongdae sighed. “Han-ge, please, you’re scaring me,” he pleaded, “I just want to talk to you.”

Luhan swallowed thickly as his eyes met Jongdae’s. He looked absolutely drained. “You need to eat, Jongdae-ah,” Han mumbled, “We can talk later.”

Jongdae shook his head stubbornly. “Nope,” he insisted, popping the ‘p’. “There’s plenty of time to talk _and_ eat. Please, Han-ge, I know you’ve sealed the bond. I just want to know you’re okay. You can carry on blocking me out, I swear, I know I can get annoyi—”

Han’s eyes widened, “Jongdae-ah!” he scolded, “You are _not_ annoying, that’s not why I’m doing this at all. How could you think—”

Jongdae swallowed, “I know, I’m sorry, I just—you didn’t say anything and I thought maybe my emotions were getting too much for you. I know I haven’t been with someone in ages and I was scared I was letting too much escape down the link.”

Han shook his head vehemently, “No, Jongdae-ah, that’s not it. I swear, your happiness makes me overjoyed. That’s not why I blocked you out!”

Jongdae bit his lip, debating with himself before reaching his hands out to hold Luhan’s. He didn’t want to do this here, he thought, grasping his bondmate’s hands tightly and pulling with determination as he stood up. Han body went rigid in response and he stubbornly remained seated.

Jongdae turned, his eyes pleading with his bondmate. _Please, please, please_ , he begged. Luhan’s gaze met his own and the steely resolve melted away slightly. The fight left his body and he went limp. Jongdae bit his lip, worry and anxiety filling his heart at his bondmate’s actions. _Something was very, very wrong_.

Jongdae tried to surreptitiously lead them out of the great hall, his grip an anchor for Han who followed his lead blindly. He hunted for the tapestry of Morgana’s familiar, grabbing onto it and pulling it open to reveal a concealed niche. That was one of the great things about living in a castle—there were hidden places _everywhere_.

He pulled them inside, letting the tapestry flutter shut behind them, sealing them in. Light filtered through the magical barrier of the fabric—it was one of the cool discoveries he and Luhan had made when they first arrived. This particular tapestry was spelled for privacy. As long as they were in here, they couldn’t be seen or heard, but they could see and hear everything outside of them.

“Han,” Jongdae murmured, despite knowing no one could hear them. “Why are you still blocking me out? You don’t have to hide, I know something’s wrong.”

Han looked at Jongdae, his gaze far too heavy for Jongdae’s liking. Jongdae held in a gasp when he realised that Han’s eyes were flashing gold. _Merlin’s beard, this is serious_.

“Han, please,” he begged, a desperate tinge to his words, “Tell me what’s wrong!”

Han looked resolutely at the floor, refusing to move, his end of the bond remaining tightly sealed. Jongdae swallowed thickly, his grip on Luhan’s hands loosening. His bondmate had never completely ignored him, he’d never completely forced him out of his head, not when Jongdae had _confronted_ him.

They were a connected unit, had been for so long, that Jongdae didn’t realise how much the isolation would _hurt_. His eyes burned, but he refused to cry. He took a deep breath and stepped back, releasing Luhan from his hold. The physical separation _ached_ now that he was aware of their emotional distance and Jongdae knew that the bond fighting to pull them together.

“I’m sorry for forcing you here if you didn’t want to talk. I’m sure you have a good reason for keeping your distance,” Jongdae began, his voice wavering slightly. He clenched his teeth to control his smarting eyes and turned to leave, “I’m sorry for being such a burden,” he whispered as he reached for the tapestry.

A hand curled into his robes, halting his exit. “Jongdae-ah,” Han stuttered out, his voice cracking.

Jongdae turned immediately. Han’s irises were now completely aureate and he was shaking with the effort it took to control himself. Luhan swallowed thickly, his eyes flaring when he pulled at the barriers between them, ripping them to shreds. His emotions flooded through Jongdae and the intensity was so much, _too much_. Jongdae found himself blindly groping for the warmth of Luhan’s body, his arms finding their way around his torso.

Han gripped his body, his forehead burrowing into Jongdae’s neck as he shook with strain. Jongdae curled around him, anchoring his bondmate. He rubbed at Luhan’s back soothingly, pressing kisses to his partner’s heated skin, “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” he murmured repeatedly.

Han’s shaking eventually subsided, his breathing pattern relaxing. His emotions reigned themselves in, no longer assaulting Jongdae’s mind through the bond. But Jongdae could still feel them, he thought with relief; Han hadn’t sealed them up again.

Luhan breathed deeply, pressing a wet kiss to Jongdae’s skin before he pulled away to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jongdae-ah,” he mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”

Jongdae shook his head, “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Han scoffed derisively, “I made you think you were a _burden_ , Jongdae. Of course it’s not okay.”

“Han—”

“No, Jongdae. I shouldn’t have done that,” Luhan insisted.

Jongdae sighed, knowing Han wouldn’t budge on this. “Fine,” he acceded. Jongdae hesitated momentarily, unsure of whether he should push his bondmate before throwing caution to the wind. “Han-ge, what’s happened? Why do you feel so… stressed?”

Han shook his head, “No, Jongdae, please, I don’t want to go into this.”

Jongdae’s grip tightened, “Han-ge, please, I can’t bear the thought of you losing control again. Please tell me how I can help, please tell me what’s wrong!”

Han sighed in resignation. “I don’t want to worry you. You’re happier than you’ve been in a long while, Jongae-ah.”

Jongdae snorted, “If you think I can be happy while you’re miserable, you’re wrong. How can I not worry? You’re part of me!”

Han pulled back slightly, slumping into the stone behind him. After a moment’s silence, he responded quietly. “It’s nothing, in all honesty. I guess I’m just being a little paranoid.”

Jongdae waited patiently, prompting him to go on.

Han sighed, licking his lips nervously. “I was in the divination tower the other day and Sybill—she said something strange. I know she’s normally a complete quack but this… I don’t know, Jongdae-ah, it sounded different somehow. I can’t even remember it completely but after that I just—I kept feeling like something was following me, watching me, everywhere I went. I swear, I even manifested these strange fluttering sounds—I felt like I was going to go insane.”

“And I just—Jongdae, you were so happy. The last thing I wanted to do was bring you down with my paranoid fears. I blocked you out, praying you wouldn’t notice if I did it one piece at a time. I didn’t—It’s not even all that big of a problem. I only lost control because I haven’t left the castle to fly, I haven’t really been sleeping and it all became too much. I’m so, so sorry—”

Jongdae shook his head stubbornly, interrupting the apology. “No, stop apologising. Stop blaming yourself for _feeling_ , Han. It’s okay. It’s totally normal to get scared, and worried, especially when you have so much you have to hide from the world,” he insisted, leaning forward into his bondmate’s chest. “It’s okay, we’re going to get you a batch Dreamless Sleep from Severus so you can rest, at the very least. We can work on flying later.”

Han’s arms circled Jongdae’s body as his partner spoke, holding him tight. “I love you,” he murmured, “I love you so much, Jongdae-ah.”

Han closed his eyes, biting his lip as Jongdae burrowed further into his arms. Guilt seared through his chest as his bondmate comforted him, the knowledge that he wasn’t telling Jongdae the full truth weighing him down. Merlin, he _couldn’t_ tell him. This was too much for him to grasp, and he refused to talk to Jongdae before he had answers. It would only cause him unnecessary pain.

Luhan remembered every last harrowing word of that damn prophecy. And it _was_ a prophecy, all right. The books he’d acquired on Divination had told him as much. Sybil might be a quack on a regular day, but Dumbledore had hired her for a reason. The woman could Divine, and Divine she did, much to Luhan’s distress.

He’d been trying to decipher the mystic words, but to no avail. Every conclusion he arrived at made him even more afraid, and nothing was becoming any clearer. He had to figure it out though, for Jongdae’s sake. If anything happened to his bondmate—Luhan clenched his jaw, pulling Jongdae impossibly closer. _No,_ he thought, _nothing would happen to him. He would set fire to the entire world before he let him get hurt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY PLS DON'T HATE ME FOR HOW LATE THIS UPDATE IS! in my defence, uni's kicking my ass, so there's that. I won't be giving up on this baby though, not in the slightest. I have the entire thing planned out and I hate leaving jobs unfinished. 
> 
> Thank you to all my lovely commenters, I truly appreciate you all. Please, let me know what you think of this chapter!! Your reviews give me strength to carry on <3 
> 
> Also guyssssssssss Produce Camp 2020/Chuang 2020, anyone? KrisTaoHan?? My Exo-L heart shed tears of happiness, I must admit. If you couldn't tell by the inclusion of Luhan here, I'm very much an OT12 girl (even if China line--minus yixing--are no longer in Exo). 
> 
> \- ash
> 
> P.S. Zitao bashing trump on Weibo and inserting a fancam is now my favourite thing. I adore him.


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